


Without a Sound

by dendraica



Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, International Tuffstrid Day (2019), RTTE plant lore, Tracker!Astrid, major character development for Tuff, mentions/threats of physical violence, permanent injury to a character, takes place during rtte, tw: non consensual touching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2020-12-14 03:44:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21009182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dendraica/pseuds/dendraica
Summary: Once the hunter’s footsteps receded, Tuff slumped as far as his restraints would allow, shaking hard. There was a hoarse rasping and Astrid realized after an initial panic that he wasn’t choking.He was trying to call for help.It was the call he used for his dragon, but no matter how hard he tried, any sound he made was faint as wind blowing across dry stone. With dull horror she realized he hadn’t been choosing to remain silent.Something was very wrong with his voice ...





	1. Chapter 1

Astrid trailed her fingers across the ground, reading the signs that bare dirt and torn, flattened grass could tell her. 

It had been a week and five days since they had been ambushed by dragon hunters, all of them separated, several of their group either captured or injured. This time, they had been dragged in different directions - Fishlegs taken up North by sea, Tuff taken East by land. Hiccup had insisted adamantly on going after Fishlegs, leaving Heather to take a wounded Snotlout and Ruffnut to Caldera Cay.

It didn’t seem open to question what Astrid would do, especially when Ruffnut, blood streaming down her pale face, looked up and rasped, “Find him,” before passing out in Heather’s arms.

Astrid was getting close. So very close.

Over the days she had followed their progress, his tracks had gone from resisting to being bodily dragged through the mud, and then finally just ... walking.

It hurt to see the evidence of his complacency, but it was miles better than finding a body.

What Astrid’s skilled eyes couldn’t find, Stormfly had been able to scent, at least until they reached bodies of running water. These hunters knew how to throw off tracking dragons, which for Tuff was not good. Fortunately, the fact they were bothering to throw off any potential rescuers was a good indication he was still alive. 

Also fortunately, Tuff seemed to be using every trick he could think of to make it that much more difficult to completely erase the signs of their passage. 

A bead from his hair, a stud from his belt, his armband, a strap from his boot ... he had no idea whether she was following, whether  anyone was following, but still Tuff was leaving behind as many breadcrumbs as he could manage to.

He was brave and smart and hopeful and Astrid was absolutely going to find him alive and bring him home. There wasn’t any kind of second option she would accept.

The eighth day was the last time he had stopped leaving anything behind for them. 

Astrid remembered that morning with fresh churning horror - when Stormfly had nosed a familiar tooth necklace out of a muddy footprint. Only desperation could have made him part with that, and further searching had suggested it hadn’t been his choice. 

Stormfly had followed his scent to a pile of stones laid over the earth and with the Nadder’s help, Astrid had torn it down until her hands bled. Beneath the rocks, they had found no body -  thank Odin \- but Tuff’s helmet and clothing had been left there, stitches broken and fabric ripped as though the garments had been torn from his body. 

They must have caught him leaving a trail, Astrid realized. Stormfly had sniffed at the clothing and chirruped, indicating their friend’s journey was still ongoing. With trembling hands, Astrid folded his belongings up and put them in her saddlebag.

She was going to give them back to him very soon, she promised herself.

It was nightfall on the thirteenth day when they finally spotted campfire smoke from the trees. 

Her Nadder grumbled and churred, shifting her weight from foot to foot on the branch of the oak they’d flown to hide in. Stormfly’s drive to rescue their companion hadn’t flagged the slightest bit, and it had been an anxious, exhausting, grueling search. She put a calming hand on her dragon’s flank. 

“Easy girl. It’s too big a group for just the two of us. They’re heavily armed and we may only get one chance at this.” 

If they caught sight of either of them advancing too early, they might hurt Tuff. That would be unacceptable. She couldn’t let that happen. 

The possibility that they might have already hurt Tuff flashed through her mind, along with the cruel memory of finding spots of blood where he’d been dragged. Astrid shook her head, refusing to become distracted by her emotions.

She told Stormfly to stay put until she called her, creeping as silently as a phantom through the underbrush. Charging in blind had its advantages but as she moved closer, every figure she could make out was carrying a crossbow. There were roughly twenty of them - far too many to ambush. The cart that had been dragging Tuff was up ahead in the camp clearing, holding a ballista.

These hunters meant business and they were ready for whatever Hiccup would have done - which was likely a reckless attack from the air coupled with blind hope that fear would get the better of the men and scatter them into chaos.

His predictable tactics were the reason they were in this mess in the first place and she couldn’t help but be just a little bitter over it. (Seriously, why even bother having drills and meetings over tactics and flying formations if you weren’t actually going to utilize them in actual battle?)

There was a slow, steady sound up ahead, of something repeatedly whistling through the air and striking a solid object.

Figuring someone was chopping firewood, Astrid didn’t bother to figure out what it was, not until she was hidden in the shadows in a domed brush, ten feet away from the hunters.

From her position, Astrid could see the fire. She could smell rabbit meat cooking over the heat, turned slowly on a spit by one of the men, who wore a dull indifferent expression. 

As each whistling strike hit its target, she realized with slowly dawning horror that nobody was in fact chopping firewood. 

After every impact, she could now make out the rasping sobs and cries that followed. Her heart stuttered in her chest and she felt cold dread pooling in her stomach.

Not soon enough came the final harsh blow, brutal and unnecessary, followed by her friend’s pained, exhausted whimper. 

“And this time you’ll  stay put, won’t you?” snapped a man’s voice, tone smug. 

Astrid curled calloused fingers around her axe handle until knuckles whitened, fury burning hot and blistering through her veins. 

“Bout time you finished that up, Erik,” called the one by the fire, sounding bored. “You know we have to get him to the docks in sellable condition to get our money, right?”

“I’m hardly maiming him, am I? He’s still got his pretty face, he’s just a little scuffed up is all. If you’re so concerned of him getting marks, stop looking away every time it’s your turn to walk the perimeter!” The one named Erik snapped. “He always tries to escape when it’s your turn.” 

“Maybe try tying him up properly then. He always tries to escape after it’s _your_ turn to tie him up.”

Erik came over threateningly, ready to brawl, but before there could be a fight, a much larger figure was between them, obviously their foreman. Both quarreling hunters immediately backed off.

“Stop bickering. Is he secure now?” The man’s voice was low, no nonsense. Erik gave a nod. “Good. He’ll have time to heal up by the time we get him there. A fair bit of hard labor should break his will to escape. He just needs the proper  incentive .”

The figure moved past them into an area Astrid could not see within her surroundings, but it was the same direction Erik had just left. There was a terrified choking noise that made Astrid’s heart ache, and then the man re-emerged, dragging Tuffnut by a lead about his neck over to the others by the fire. 

He stumbled after the foreman unevenly, like a newborn fawn.

“Sit,” ordered the foreman curtly. 

She could see Tuff clearly now from her position. He had not been given garments to replace the ones taken from him. All he had on was a cloth tied about his waist though he’d been at least permitted his boots. 

There was a metal collar around his neck which the leash was attached to. The visible skin beneath looked raw and red, while the rest of his body was covered in angry red crisscrossing lines, both fresh and old. 

He was obviously in pain and shivered pitifully, breathing hard and leaning as close as he could to the fire.

“I said  sit .” The man loomed over him until Tuff jolted, obeying the order like it was the first time he’d heard it. He sat on his heels and bowed his head submissively. 

Astrid gripped her axe hard enough to make the wood creak.

It was fair to assume that Tuff had long since realized he was in over his head.These men had already proven they weren’t going to scoff and roll their eyes if he disobeyed.

“Since you’ve got so much energy to try and run off,” the foreman explained, almost gently - which was somehow just as horrible. “I’ve decided you need some busy work. So tomorrow, despite your welts, you will haul the cart to the next resting point. If you refuse or stop without permission, then you will serve us in  other ways until we arrive at our destination. Do you have any inkling what those ways might be, or is a demonstration necessary?” 

Tuff looked up sharply and the light of the flames showed a look of pleading terror on his face. Eyes bright with tears, he shook his head frantically. Astrid wasn’t sure exactly what ideas were floating through his imagination, but she knew enough to want to cleave the man’s face off. 

“Very well.” The foreman handed the lead to Erik’s ‘friend’, who was still sitting by the fire. “Your task for tonight is also straightforward. If you let this fire die before the rabbit is cooked and the pit doused for the evening, Merch here has my permission to kick your legs apart and take whatever he wants.”

Tuff said nothing, though he started shaking harder. Astrid closed her throat around a scream of horrified, enraged protest. Her mind raced frantically for solutions, but everyone of them involved a reckless burst of axe swinging that wasn’t going to save anyone or solve anything. 

She was outnumbered with no advantage; even if she called Stormfly they could  not take on twenty hunters by themselves.

“Come now, don’t fret,” the man was saying, his tone a mockery of kindness. “If you feed the fire well, you too will be fed before bedtime. That rabbit smells good, doesn’t it? Wouldn’t getting to eat tonight be far better than whatever else _could_ happen to you?”

Merch grinned darkly, giving Tuff’s leash a sharp tug. Tuff forced himself to nod, and the foreman smirked down at him, looking almost fond.

“Good boy,” he praised, reaching down to stroke Tuff’s face with his grimy fingers. With that, he and Erik walked away chuckling, leaving Tuff alone with Merch. 

Astrid felt hot tears threatening to spill over but took a breath and made herself keep still. Rage was a windstorm in her heart, but as much as she wanted to strike down these pigs who called themselves men, this was a rescue. Her goal was getting Tuff out of here - first and foremost.

Tuffnut seemed to have gained his own sense of focus and rather than try to banter or distract or beg, his shaking hands sought out the work he had been given. He collected twigs and nearby branches, breaking them up and placing them either over the hot embers of the fire or in a pile by his side so he could have continuous fuel.

Astrid felt proud of him for keeping his head under pressure, though it pained her a great deal to watch. Logically, she would rather he obey than be punished for the sake of pride, but Tuff at his core was not a person who followed orders. He hadn’t used to be. It appeared they had broken him down, just as he was now meekly and quietly breaking up sticks to feed his captors’ fire.

For now, the fire’s life seemed to be his only care in the world.He knelt at the edge of the pit, waiting until the flames got lower before adding in the kindling from his pile. The flames were burning hot and fast already, and soon enough he was having to search on hands and knees for yet more dry material to add in. 

Merch watched him just as hungrily as the flames, giving his leash little slack and once unexpectedly pulling back hard and choking Tuff when he got close to a thick branch that would buy him another hour at least. It seemed to amuse him to watch his prisoner having to choose between breathing and obtaining what might save him from further torment. 

The man eventually gave him just enough freedom to grab it, but by that point the fire had drastically dimmed. Tuff broke up the branch and added it in piece by piece, blowing on the embers until they caught. Astrid could plainly see the terror on his face.

That in itself was making a very strong case against leaving survivors, but she bit her lip until it bled and contained her fury, biding her time until night deepened - until she could truly help him get free.

To his credit, Tuff never once stopped working on the fire. As he slowly ran out of kindling within any radius Merch would give him, he had the foresight to wait patiently until the fire dimmed before throwing in more of the branch and some dry leaves to replenish it. The sky had turned dark as pitch by the time Erik finally showed up to pull the rabbits off the spits while another poured a bucket of mud over the embers, making them hiss and billow with smoke.

Merch sighed, sounding disappointed. He got up and collected some of the meat, tugging on Tuff’s leash to lead him over to a different tree than the one he’d received his earlier thrashing by. It was close enough to Astrid’s hiding spot that she could hear Tuff’s pained gasps and see puffs of breath in the cold air escaping his lips. 

Tuffnut was forced to kneel in front of the tree as Merch knotted his ankles together, then tied his arms - wrists to elbows - behind his welted back. The man was obviously not gentle about it, but not once Tuff complain at the treatment. Lastly, he tied the end of the leash to an upper branch, forcing Tuff to straighten up on his knees or choke.

Lastly, as though it was an afterthought, Merch held small portions of rabbit meat against Tuff’s lips. Each bite it was barely a mouthful but the boy snatched up everything offered, turning his head away quickly to eat it as though scared the food would be taken away. 

Once he was empty handed however, Merch didn’t leave. He instead touched the top of Tuff’s head, and ran his fingers across Tuff’s braids, down his shoulder and along his marked back.

Tuff stopped chewing abruptly, utterly frozen in terror. The man paused over the small of his back and plucked the waistband of his only garment, causing a hitching tremble.

“It’s really too bad you were so diligent with that fire. Didn’t throw all your fuel on it at once like I was thinkin’ you would. S’alright, there’ll be other chances. Maybe you’ll try to escape again and the whole group of us can have some fun, hmm? You riders have been a right thorn in our side since day one. Viggo can have the brown haired one if he catches him, but you ...” 

Merch took Tuff’s face in his hand and made him turn his head to look at him. 

“You’re quite lovely. You’ll probably end up a star attraction at the docks I wager, if nobody buys you at auction. I certainly hope that’s so. Perhaps we’ll meet again, when I’ve got some extra gold and you’re all trained up ...”

Tuff still wasn’t saying anything, but Astrid’s utter creep radar was making all kinds of noises. She had a throwing knife in her hand within half a thought, ready to drop the man if necessary.

“I wonder if you’d be a screamer?” He asked, hand going lower to stroke Tuff’s bruised and welted flank. “I like it when pretty boys like you make noises.” 

Tuffnut was trembling violently but looked straight ahead. He lifted his chin and swallowed the mouthful of cooked meat, trying not to give the man any reaction whatsoever - or any reason to punish him. 

Someone, presumably Erik, called for Merch to get off his lazy ass and distribute the food already. With an annoyed snort, Merch got up and left him alone.

Once the hunter’s footsteps receded, Tuff slumped as far as his restraints would allow, shaking hard. There was a hoarse rasping and Astrid realized after an initial panic that he wasn’t choking. 

He was trying to call for help. 

It was the call he used for his dragon, but no matter how hard he tried, any sound he made was faint as wind blowing across dry stone. 

With dull horror she realized he hadn’t been choosing to remain silent. Something was  very wrong with his voice ...

Tuff gave up after the third coughing fit, starting to hitch and sob with fear. Astrid let her own tears fall silently, vowing to her friend with every one that he wasn’t ever going to have to live out the terrible future Merch had just painted for him. 

She was right here. He was going to be okay, and safe, and nobody was going to hurt him like this ever again.

There was eventual silence from the hunters. Nobody came toward Tuff’s tree, only a shadow to the west moved in between the trunks, doing a perimeter walk. Astrid counted the man pass three times and felt confident enough to know where he’d be and how much time she had. 

She waited until he headed a little further, then moved silently, blending in with the shadows to reach her friend’s side. 

Tuff was clearly exhausted, jolting awake in his bonds every time his body sagged against them, cutting off his air. Astrid’s slow approach went noticed and he straightened, staring warily until he registered who it was. 

His eyes widened, filling with yet more tears once he recognized her. Astrid was certain that had he not been tied, he would have flung his arms around her. 

Thoughtlessly, Astrid put a gentle finger to his lips and took a knife to his bonds, freeing his limbs and cutting off the awful lead at the base of his collar. She refused to let herself look too closely at his state - skin dirtied, welted, bruised and scraped. There was so much damage, but now wasn’t the time to react.

Astrid helped him stand, putting his arm around her shoulder for support. He leaned against her, but only a little, following her as best as he could. Tuff’s other hand frantically sought hers in the dark and she found it, clasping it tight like when they were kids, hiding in the Great Hall during a dragon raid. 

As fast as they could, they moved toward Stormfly - Astrid knowing the perimeter guard would be rousing the others when he saw Tuff had attempted escape yet again. 

Sure enough there was a shout, followed by others, not far enough behind them. With a burst of terror, Tuff forced himself to move faster - a strain his body was in no shape for.He stumbled and fell, almost dragging her down with him. Astrid went to one knee, but hauled him up and kept them moving. She could feel his heart pounding against her side. 

“Don’t panic, I’ve got you,” she promised fiercely, and Tuff took ragged deep breaths, moving along with her pace instead of wasting his energy.

She whistled sharply for Stormfly, figuring with all the racket the hunters were making behind them, they wouldn’t be able to hear. An answering roar gave her relief; Stormfly would reach her and Tuff faster, even if the hunters had guessed their fugitive’s position by now. 

Torches lit up paths behind them, but Stormfly came swiftly upon them through the trees ahead. The Nadder spared a moment to squawk in concerned alarm at Tuff, looking him over and sniffing. Tuffnut sobbed silently in relief, caressing her muzzle for a brief second before Astrid hoisted him up into the saddle, pulling herself up after him. 

As soon as they were on board, Stormfly turned and moved fast, putting a distance between the pursuing men and her charges. Within moments, she had barreled up a slope and used its height to get airborne.

They left behind nothing but confused and angry shouting in the forest below.


	2. Chapter 2

** ** <strike> </strike> It was a long way they had taken Tuff, nearly two weeks by land - but only a day and a half journey by dragon.  They were closer to Caldera Cay than the Edge or Berk, and that’s where the riders had decided to regroup if they were successful in their rescue attempts.

It had been a hasty plan, made with more desperation than anything actual planning. In the past, the riders had been kept together when captured, but Viggo had spread them apart this time and she was furious at how easily he’d almost separated them permanently. 

As they flew on, she hoped privately that the others had found Fishlegs alive and unharmed, that Ruff and Snotlout were on the mend, that Hiccup and Heather were safely returned.

Tuff was hard asleep against her. He’d passed out almost as soon as she had answered all the frantic questions in his eyes. He still couldn’t speak - it tore at her heart to see him keep trying despite the obvious pain of each attempt. She took a guess and answered everything she could think he’d have possibly wanted to know.

Yes, his sister was safe. Healing, but safe. Yes, he was going to see her as soon as they got there. The Edge was secured, Barf and Belch were at Caldera Cay, Chicken had enough food and drink in her little hut, and if they had retrieved Fishlegs, everyone would be regrouping on Mala’s island.

Astrid had kept her voice calm and soothing, not betraying the wild anger and horror whirling in her chest as she surveyed his wounds in the safety of the air.

Lacerations, welts, bruises, scrapes, burns - too many forms of inflicted pain could be glimpsed through the layers of dirt and smeared mud. He had lost weight, as though he wasn’t skinny enough. Astrid remembered how quickly he’d snapped up the rabbit, eating it so desperately from Merch’s greasy hand. 

She needed to get him to the healers at Caldera Cay and fast, but it was a long journey and the wind cut cold. His clothing was in her pack but stiff with mud and not intact enough to be any good. Tuff really didn’t need to get sick on top of everything. She had to get him warm, fed, clean ...

There would be hot springs close by the area they were currently flying past. They had already left the hunters behind by three days worth of travel, and that was only if they somehow guessed the right direction to pursue them in. Or bothered to pursue at all.

Astrid told Stormfly where to go and she banked left, heading to the cluster of reddish hills cresting over the treetops that indicated a dormant volcano.

Back on the Edge, Tuffnut had taught her how to find them, casually commenting that the mineral wonders of hot springs were the most beneficial to the human body during the early hours of the morning. He had known Astrid was usually up before sunrise, doing her training and scouting routines.

She’d taken his advice in the end and made it sort of a guilty habit to soak for an hour in the pools at the Edge, at least twice a week.

Tuff had figured it was so, especially when Ruff had sulkily observed that her skin was being all glowing and perfect. He’d probably even known about what time she would be there, yet he‘d never once barged in on her, not even to lob a snake at her and run away.

He’d respected her privacy but now she might have to barge in on his, Astrid realized guiltily. The risk of his wounds getting infected was too high to put off.

Stormfly flew into the cave and Astrid gave directions until they were deeper in, hot pools of water causing drifts of steam to wind past the stalagmite columns.

Astrid lit a lantern to guide their way. She chose a small pool with a raised curved ledge sloping gently into the cloudy water, so Tuff could lay down as she tended to him. She put her hand in first to test that it wasn’t too hot and was satisfied it wouldn’t scald him. The hot mineral water would clean and close up his wounds and the food rations she had brought along could only help. 

Gently she shook Tuff awake and he jolted with a hoarse gasp, hands gripping her arms and eyes darting around the dim cave. He didn’t recognize his surroundings and clung to her until his eyes adjusted to the light from the lantern.

“It’s okay - we’re safe here, Tuff,” she soothed, promising. “I found us a place we can rest for the night. It’s several days journey away from where we just were and there’s no way any of them can hope to track us here.”

Tuff shivered against her and she rubbed her thumb across the unmarked skin of his left arm as she talked, unable to help it. He lifted his face to look up at her in immense relief and gratitude, as though she was the sun itself rising out of endless night. 

“How long have you been unable to speak?” Astrid had to ask.

Tuff appeared to think for a moment, eyes going blank, then held up two fingers. 

Two days ... so whatever they’d done, it had been recent. Astrid swore inwardly, though there wasn’t anything she could think of that would have gotten her there sooner. She had barely slept most nights.

“I’m sorry it took so long for us to track you,” she murmured anyway. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and fed. Then you can rest while I keep watch.”

Tuffnut nodded, and she figured he wouldn’t have argued against rest or food, even if he could have. 

Astrid got off Stormfly and helped him down, grunting when he all but fell on her. He tried to say something, but his voice was the sound of a knife’s edge sliding across limestone and he gripped his throat beneath the collar, looking agonized. She touched the cold metal, searching for a way to get it off. There was no latch, only a keyhole, and naturally she didn’t have the key. Bastards.

“What did they do to your throat?” Astrid muttered, handing him a water-skin. She wasn’t expecting an answer and he couldn’t give her one. Tuff instead took the skin eagerly, drinking frantically like he hadn’t seen water in days. She wondered if he hadn’t and didn’t admonish him for drinking too much; she had seen countless streams nearby from the air before they’d come to rest here. She could refill it in the morning. 

Tuff drank to the point he had to gasp for air, and finally handed the rest of the water back in favor of breathing. As he panted shakily, bracing his weight against the pool ledge, she took a quick drink herself and offered a handful to Stormfly, who lapped it up.

Astrid put the skin away, then coaxed Tuffnut gently by the arm to sit down. “I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to wash your wounds, so ... you’re going to have to strip down completely. We can’t risk you get infected,” she explained and he nodded, looking too exhausted to protest. He dropped to his hands and knees, shifting awkwardly to lay on his hip so he could undo his boot laces.

The way he moved made him look old, arthritic ... on Tuff, so normally full of zest and mischief, it was all wrong. 

Before she could think about it, Astrid had moved to sit on the ground beside him, moving him to rest against her. She undid his boot straps and helped him take them off, then untied the cloth from about his waist, setting it aside. Tuffnut didn’t say anything but the way he looked at her, ashamed and apologetic, prompted her to hug him.

He melted into the embrace, hugging her back tightly and pressing his forehead into her shoulder, trembling.There was no sound, but his tears soaked into her shirt.

Gods how she wanted to turn back and burn them all down, until the men who had so grossly demeaned and injured him and stolen his voice became nothing but windswept scatterings of ash.

That wasn’t going to help Tuff right now though.

“It will be okay,” she murmured into his hair, her trademark comforting phrase when she didn’t know what else to say. Tuff seemed to lap it up anyway.

He probably hadn’t been touched kindly for days, and regret burned deep inside her - touch had always been so important to him. Even before all this, Tuff was constantly seeking hugs and warmth and touches from all of them. Even when he was Loki’ing them all, he seemed to crave the attention their anger could bring.

Astrid could hardly bear to end the embrace, but she knew the hot pool would make him feel so much better and warm him up much faster. She would still be right there to scrub the filth out of his wounds (and the touch of that  creep out of his hair and skin.)

After a long moment she let go and helped him to his feet, leading him into the water of the pool. Tuff obeyed, completely trusting. He made no complaint, but his grip on her tightened a bit as she lowered him in hip deep. It stung probably; she should have warned him.

Astrid’s fingers were thorough and gentle, cataloguing the damage as she worked on cleaning his injuries. Each set of wounds had its own dark possibility, but the latest thrashing had been delivered with some kind of thin strap that had raised painful ridges with the force behind it. She cupped water in her hand to rinse away the fresh blood from inflamed skin, murmuring soft apologies as she did so.

Tuff gripped her other arm, burying his face in the crook of her elbow, each grating rasping sob making her chest hurt.

He didn’t struggle or try to stop her, just laying as still as he could manage and allowing her to do whatever was needed - which was uncharacteristic and worrying at best. Astrid didn’t want to consider what it had taken to subdue him this thoroughly.

After his wounds were as clean as she could get them, she washed his hair with soapwort, rinsing it and wringing it out - mostly as an excuse to give him more of the touch he craved. Tuff didn’t seem to like it much whenever she had to leave his side to retrieve things, so she ended up dragging over Stormfly’s saddlebags and settled on the edge of the pool. Stormfly herself, loving bath time, opted to soak in a pool of her own close by. 

Tuff decided when he had enough and it seemed to coincide with her jolting awake, barely aware that she had started to drift off in the warmth of the steam - or maybe it was the third yawn in two minutes. He put careful arms around her, looking concerned that she might fall off the ledge.

Astrid was exhausted, it was true, but she felt she owed it to Tuffnut to stay awake just a little longer; to take care of him just a bit more. Tuff waved off her protests and yawned himself, miming going to sleep with his hands folded under his head. 

Guiltily, she obliged, pulling out a blanket and thin bedroll from the saddlebags. She made them up a nest between pools, so the heat from the rocks could add warmth throughout the night. Tuff laid down beside her after she helped him out of the hot water, curling up on the blanket roll next to her in boneless exhaustion. 

As soon as she settled in beside him, he scooted closer, wrapping his hands politely around her arm. Astrid’s response was to roll onto her side, pulling him close - nearly on top of her - and tucking them both under another blanket. Tuff sighed shakily in relief, resting his head on her shoulder. She found herself watching his face long after he finally fell asleep.

Protectiveness coursed through her veins, burning hotter and fiercer than it had for anyone else, much to both her surprise and ... guilt. 

She thought she had been protective of Hiccup, especially after he’d lost his foot, but the boy had proven himself adaptable and almost twice as reckless with his life than the twins combined. Hiccup didn’t need her to protect him; he had himself. He had Toothless, and his dad, and Gobber - he had everyone. Hell, he even had  Dagur ready to throw down for him. 

She ... wasn’t needed. She certainly hadn’t _felt_ needed in any way since they’d come to the Edge. Honestly, it scared her sometimes, how easily Hiccup could decide to leave her - all of them - at any moment, for any whim or reason at all. It didn’t seem to matter to him what they needed. What _she_ needed .

Astrid had given up on her dreams of joining the Berk Guard, of making her mom and Uncle Finn proud, because Hiccup’s dream had seemed so much bigger and more important at the time. 

Perhaps she had thought he’d notice the sacrifice and love her more for it. 

Perhaps she had been a fool.

Whatever the case, they couldn’t go on like this. Tuffnut had suffered greatly, and she had no idea if Fishlegs was rescued or even still alive. Those bastard hunters had known how to strike at the very heart of them. It was a clear warning from Viggo- that Hiccup would no doubt ignore once they were all back together and healed up for the next misadventure.

Stormfly stood up from her soak and shook herself off away from the both of them, then preened for a few minutes until she was dry. Astrid clicked her tongue at her invitingly and the Nadder trotted over, curling around the both of them in a protective warm circle. 

She felt Tuff stir against her, his face a mask of confused fear and pain. Astrid murmured soothingly, stroking her fingers across his face and smoothing back his hair until he settled back into sleep against her. 

Only then was she able to drift off into sleep herself.


	3. Chapter 3

Morning came too soon but Astrid made herself get up, stretching and popping the stiffness out of her joints. They still had a long way to go before getting to safety and the others.

Tuff had draped across her in the night, a comfortable warm dead weight. At least until she mentioned the word breakfast and then he’d sat up almost before he was conscious. 

With a guilty start Astrid remembered she had not fed him last night - nor had she eaten anything herself. Hard tack, cheese and yak jerky was all Astrid had to offer and had she only known how little he’d been given to eat, she would have packed more. 

Fortunately she could forage and a few minutes of searching out of the cave yielded horse mushrooms, ink caps and shaggy parasols, mallow leaves, fiddleheads, dandelion and wild chives. She refilled the water skins too and had Stormfly boil some water in a pot with a quick blast, then added ingredients to make a broth. Some of the jerky went in as well, to soften up and add flavor and salt. 

She wasn’t the best cook by any stretch of the imagination. The ink cap mushrooms had dyed the food an unappetizing gray and the broth tasted kind of like someone had washed their socks in it first, but it was nutritious at least.

Tuff surprised her by drinking his entire portion without so much as a grimace. He asked with a pleading look for more and she obliged, refilling his bowl and handing it back. He drank that too, dipping the hard tack in the broth to soften it and cramming it into his mouth. Only then did his eyes water, but it seemed to be from the pain of whatever they had done to his poor throat than any fault in her cooking. 

He forcibly swallowed it and chased it down with the rest of the broth, too hungry to stop. Astrid reached out to him unthinkingly, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

He nodded and tried to smile, then looked over her shoulder into the pot to see if there was more he could have. 

All Astrid could think of in that moment was the contrast of Hiccup turning down her offers of food with that politely pained smile of his, like she didn’t know he would made an expression of disgust as soon as her back was turned. Tuff honestly didn’t seem to care so long as there was food. He looked up at her gratefully when she gave him what was left in the cookpot, then knocked it back, gulping it all down. 

She went to go rinse the pot out to put it away. Her heart was fluttering. Nobody had wanted seconds of her fare before, let alone ... well, all of it. 

In the past, Tuff had occasionally picked on her cooking, but no more than he had on everybody else’s, and to be fair she had more than once thoroughly insulted his salted sea bass. 

Something was different now though. _He_ was different.

After breakfast, she investigated the clothing she had in the saddlebag, finding one of her tunics that would fit him. His leggings and socks she had rinsed free of blood and dirt in the hot water, and left them to dry in the morning sun. Astrid helped him redress when he needed it, slightly hovering while he pulled his boots on. He was showing more dexterity than he had last night; apparently the hot water and minerals had done him some good. 

Almost shyly, not sure why she had waited to surprise him, she offered him his tooth necklace - having rinsed the mud out of the cord that morning. Tuff had stared at it for a moment and in the next had clambered to his feet to hug her tightly, crying silently into her shoulder. 

Astrid held him back, surprised and faintly alarmed by the show of gratitude. She helped him put it on to hang beneath the collar and for the rest of the morning he kept gripping the pendant as though to make sure it was really there.

She made it a point to stop at the nearest stream to fill the waterskin and again encouraged him to drink as much as he could. Tuff’s throat wasn’t in too much pain for him to drink at least. Once they got to Caldera Cay, some medicinal tea and broth would probably do him wonders.

It was almost dusk when Mala’s island came into view. Tuff had gripped her hand, pointing excitedly just as she had glimpsed it. 

Astrid wasn’t sure if all their friends would be there, but she knew Snotlout and Ruff would be at the very least - maybe Dagur as well, since Heather had been there as backup for the earlier skirmish. Truthfully, he would have flown in just to see if he could help even if she hadn’t been. 

It would be nice to see all of them, but the reunions Astrid was looking forward to the most was throwing her arms around Fishlegs and squeezing the daylights out of him and the Twins doing the same to each other. Tuff needed to see his sister - probably just as badly as Ruff needed to see him. 

Snotlout and Dagur were the first to greet them once they landed. Snotlout yelled at the top of his lungs, jumping up and down and running over when he spotted them and Astrid was almost giddy with relief to see him healed up. His arm was in a sling, but he looked miles better than in the aftermath of their battle with the hunters. 

Dagur whooped, easily overtaking Snotlout on his way over to ‘help’ Tuff out of the saddle, overly emotional and all but crushing the male twin in one of his infamous Berserker hugs. 

“Boynut! You’re alive! I knew you would be, toughness is in your very name! No lousy hunters are gonna take you down, right?”

Tuff went from startled to grinning widely in only a few seconds, throwing his armsaround the Berserker with all his strength. Which, considering his current state, wasn’t much to speak of. 

Snotlout, looking a little sore that Dagur had beat him, offered his good one to Astrid with none of the usual braggish aplomb. She accepted it gratefully instead of ignoring it, and hopped down.

“Are the others back yet? Did they find Legs? How’s Ruffnut?” she asked him.

“No, they aren’t back yet,” Snotlout sighed. “But they sent back a terror saying they were successful and they’re going to go to the Edge first, because it’s closer.” 

Astrid frowned sharply at that, but Snotlout carried on. “Yeah, I thought it was lame too. He _said_ for us all to meet here, but the Edge is ‘unguarded’ so, whatever. Anyway, Hiccup says Fishlegs is fine - just a little shaken - and they should fly over as soon as they get their dragons rested up.”

“How is Ruff?” Astrid asked, shoving aside her anger for the moment. Though she was going to kick Hiccup’s scrawny ass the moment she saw him. Going back to the Edge first had _not_ been part of the plan.

“Ruff’s doing better. Well, physically. She’s been totally freaking out about Tuff, so we’ve been cramming her full of sage fruit. It was that or let her steal Hooky and go off to find you guys.” Snotlout lowered his voice. “So ... what happened to Tuffy? He looks awful.”

He stared in Tuff’s direction. Dagur had set him down, also looking him over in obvious concern. 

“Hunters decided he was a thrall. They were going to sell him,” Astrid replied, voice tight, and slightly trembling. “They’ve beaten him, starved him and ... I don’t know exactly how they did it, but ...”

“Okay, normally you’re talking a mile a minute. Why are you being so quiet?” Dagur was asking Tuff, making her trail off in misery to watch them. 

Tuff actually tried answering and didn’t even get out one syllable before choking himself off with a grimace of pain. 

“Open your mouth for a quick second?” Dagur ordered gently, tone kind but expression alarmed. 

He lightly tilted Tuff’s chin up and the boy complied, showing the usual amount of boundless trust now that he was among friends. Astrid was glad to see it, but less glad to see Dagur’s mouth straighten into a grim line.He exhaled sharply. “Boynut, what the hell did they do to you?”

Astrid was beside them within the space of two heartbeats. Tuff couldn’t answer but he looked from her to Dagur and mimed drinking something, then gripped his throat.

For a moment, she wasn’t sure if he was telling them what had happened or if he was asking for more water. Then she saw how hard he was shaking and reached out unthinkingly to try and soothe him. Tuff looked at her helplessly and repeated the same motions.

“They forced you to drink something, and it hurt?” Astrid verified carefully. Tuff hesitated but nodded. He mouthed something and she was too unfamiliar with the word to make it out but Dagur made a noise like the wind had been knocked out of his lungs. 

“Fire-fern?! They made you _drink_ fire -fern? ” 

Tuffnut nodded again, crossing his arms tightly to try and hide his trembling. 

“What the hell is fire-fern?” Snotlout demanded before Astrid could. Dagur stopped cursing and took a deep calming breath, slowly letting it out before he answered.

“It’s a plant that usually grows beneath an elm, spiky and red. If you touch it, it’s like holding a live coal in your hand. The sap is caustic - it doesn’t really ever stop burning. Boynut ... come on, you’ll have to drink something else, and it’ll suck, but the blisters in your throat will heal up and it’ll stop hurting.“ Dagur took Tuff gently by the shoulders, steering him toward the medic’s hut.

Astrid followed without thinking. Snotlout mentioned shakily that he was going to go get Ruff and she nodded, unwilling to leave Tuff’s side. He went where he was taken, but he didn’t seem thrilled at the prospect of having to swallow any more unpleasant concoctions. 

He looked at Astrid and the fear in his gaze made her chest hurt. She took his hand, squeezed it, and threaded their fingers together. 

“Will it hurt to drink whatever he has to drink?” she asked, figuring he’d want to know. The surprised and grateful look he shot her didn’t go unnoticed. 

“What? No, but it’ll taste just terrible. And for awhile he’s only going to be able to drink broth, water, and tea. Drinking shouldn’t hurt, but eating solid food could reopen the burns and it’ll hurt like hell.” Dagur paused, looking at Tuff’s skinny frame. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten?” 

He looked at Dagur helplessly and the man winced. “Right, sorry. Hold up fingers - how many days?”

Tuff held up one finger, but looked at Astrid for help. 

“Since last night and this morning, he’s drunk some broth and had some rabbit meat,” she supplied for him. “Before that, I don’t think those hunters gave him much.”

Tuff’s eyes widened and Astrid realized she’d admitted to witnessing far more than he had probably wanted her to. The man with the rabbit meat had touched him, caressed and threatened vile things that still curdled her blood. 

Surprisingly, rather than pull away from Astrid in shame, Tuff squeezed her hand and butted his shoulder against hers. He looked oddly relieved that she knew. Maybe because it meant she would understand some of what he’d gone through without having to mime it or write it out awkwardly in runes. She squeezed his hand back.

Dagur nodded and dragged out a cookpot, starting to gather ingredients. Tuff watched him, the hopefulness in his eyes making Astrid want to cry.

For Tuff, not being able to talk would be torture in itself. It was a huge part of how he expressed himself to others. He was a storyteller, a joker - not having his voice was akin to an artist suddenly not having his hands.

She wanted to reassure him it would be okay, that his voice would come back, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. Astrid didn’t actually know if the medicine would work. It had been two days ... what if it was too late?

Astrid led Tuff by the hand towards one of the beds and lightly tugged at his tunic. It felt more communicative than telling Tuff to take it off, to gesture rather than to speak. It just didn’t seem fair right now, that everyone else but him could talk.

He hesitantly obeyed, and once again she helped him unlace his boots. Having put the cauldron of medicine over the fire to brew, Dagur watched them silently, saying nothing until he saw the wounds that had been covered up. 

“Oh,” he murmured in concern, and opened a few drawers searching until he found a small pot. He carried it over to them, sitting down by Tuff’s hip. 

“This is comfrey salve. It doesn’t sting or anything and it’s got other stuff to numb you up. Can we put some on you?”

Tuff nodded, seeming to relax. Astrid felt a surge of admiration for Dagur; the Berserker didn’t know Tuffnut as well as the rest of them did, but he was trying his hardest to make him feel comfortable and safe. Astrid had possibly struggled more than the others to learn to trust their former enemy, but Dagur’s actions toward Tuff right now were soothing old grievances she hadn’t been aware she still harbored.

“Lay down on your side - there you go.” 

Between the both of them, they got Tuff’s wounds coated with the salve. Dagur explained that the sage fruit extract should relieve most of the pain. It was working fast; Astrid could already feel Tuff breathing easier. 

Dagur further won her over by finding a slim tool to tease open the lock of his collar. Tuffnut immediately checked to see if his pendant was still there, fingers accidentally brushing against the raw open wounds and blisters around his neck where the collar had chafed and cut him. 

Dagur and Astrid both gasped at the same time Tuff did. He pulled his hand away to grip the bedsheets, trying obviously not to cry out. Dagur looked shaken but only for a moment, taking charge. He cleansed the wounds thoroughly with warm herb-infused water (Tuff held still but gripped Astrid’s fingers tightly, trying to be brave and definitely Not Crying) then patted the area gently dry with a clean piece of linen.

The abrasions still looked angry and red; she belatedly remembered that Tuff hadn’t submerged himself enough earlier for the water to reach his neck. Astrid applied more salve to ease the pain and stave off infection as Dagur went to check on the brewing medicine.

It was done and he carried a mug of it back to them, sitting again by Tuff’s hip. “It’ll help to think of this less as tea and more like a fish broth.”

Tuff lost his apprehensive look at that and reached for it gladly. “Oh. Okay then.” Dagur blinked, handing it over. His eyebrows rose slowly, impressed as Tuff knocked it back it with an ease that would put a tavern regular to shame. 

When no expected spray of medicine came his way, Dagur nodded, and took back the mug. “I’ll have to remember to use that description more often. Not that we get a lot of patients who have their voices burned away.”

Tuff tried to say something but nothing came out. He didn’t wince this time though, touching his throat in surprise. 

“The medicine coats the inside of your throat so the burns and blisters stop hurting. It also seals them up so they can start to heal with less scarring,” Dagur explained. “Unfortunately that doesn’t mean your voice is going to come back right away. And it’s ... there’s no real guarantee it’ll come back at all. Fire-fern is some seriously nasty stuff. You need to give yourself time to heal.”

He looked devastated at that, and a little panicked. Tuff nodded but Astrid could see his hands starting to shake. Dagur bit his lip thoughtfully and then got up. “I’ll be right back.” He gave Astrid a look that meant  stay with him,  as if she could do anything else.

When he was gone, Tuff surprised her by turning to cling to her, face hidden against her shoulder. 

Oh no, no, it wasn’t fair ... Astrid realized belatedly that she’d been hoping for a quick cure too - for Tuff’s sake. Her arms went around him, hugging him tight and saying nothing. 

Now just didn’t seem like the time for words at all.


	4. Chapter 4

Astrid hurled another rock into the ocean, taking some satisfaction in the spray that disrupted the relentlessly calm surface. Things just deserved to be shattered right now, and it was either throwing rocks or throwing axes. Rocks seemed just a little safer than the latter option. 

She had held Tuff for five minutes before Dagur returned - with a flat piece of slate and a stick of chalk, worn smooth so he could write with it. Tuffnut had been grateful and managed a watery smile. The first thing he’d written for both of them had been a promise to learn to write quickly so he wouldn’t keep them waiting. Before Astrid could protest that it wasn’t needed - that as his friends they could learn to slow down and listen - a crash at the door and an immediate backwards thump heralded the arrival of Ruffnut.

Snotlout had not been kidding about the sage fruit thing. He guiltily helped her up after she’d smacked into the doorframe, a quick look at Astrid confirming he had the sense not to burst out laughing even as she stumbled into the medics hut and veered toward Tuff’s bed with all the grace of a drunken fruit bat.

Her foot caught on a stool and Dagur’s quick reflexes managed to catch her before she face-planted onto the floorboards. He set her on the bed where Ruff immediately pulled Tuff against her. Astrid stood up, hovering uselessly and knowing Ruff wasn’t trying to hurt her brother but still worried her fierce hugging was aggravating his wounds. Tuff seized her and held her tightly with no complaint, visibly shaking and rocking with her. 

They had almost been separated permanently because of this stupid mission. They couldn’t even talk to each other and Astrid suddenly didn’t want to be in the room when Ruffnut figured out the reason for her brother’s silence - or that two days could have made all the difference. 

She glanced at Tuff, who was mouthing his sister’s name over and over, eyes closed tightly, tears again sliding down his face. Astrid turned to leave, muttering tersely that she was going to go check on the dragons. 

And she had checked on them, briefly. Hookfang, Barf, Belch, and Meatlug were in a cozy pile under a strand of palm trees. Stormfly was cozied up to Sleuther, grooming the Triplestryke’s head as he churred, eyes blinking in contentment. Astrid gave them all pats and caresses anyway. She stood there pointlessly for five minutes before wandering off to her current position.

Astrid dug in the sand to pry out a rock the size of Hiccup’s head and gritted her teeth as it called forth another memory - of unearthing a potential grave.

It very easily could have been his grave ... and for what? The mission hadn’t been to save anyone, it had been to get a lens - a stupid fucking lens for the stupid fucking Dragon Eye which she was really starting to hate.

With a roar of helpless anger, she threw the rock like it was a shot-put at the Thawfest games, feeling some satisfaction when it cracked in two against a boulder set out in the water before sending up separate splashes.

Why couldn’t she have found him earlier? Why had she listened when Hiccup pulled them back, redirecting them to regroup first at Caldera Cay when she should have gone with her instinct and started tracking Tuff immediately? 

Why had she listened to Hiccup  ever, at all, when he just did whatever he wanted any time he wanted to. Like going back to the Edge first -  who did he think he was?  What if she’d needed back up - what if she had sent a terror mail  **here** requesting it, counting on him to be  **here** to receive it? 

Hiccup was _never_ where he needed to be. Certainly not for Tuff’s sake, and _definitely_ not for hers. 

Astrid knelt to dig up another buried rock and someone behind her coughed. 

“Uhhhh. Need a shovel?” 

She whirled around to face Ruffnut, stomach dropping. Oh no, she could not handle getting yelled at right now but if anyone had the right to yell at her it would be his sister. Shaking slightly, Astrid stood up, preparing herself to take what she was sure would be a volley of blame and wild fury, just as helpless as her own. 

Instead, Ruff’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her into one of the fiercest hugs Astrid could ever remember receiving.

“Thank you,” Ruffnut muttered after a long moment. Astrid had only just managed to cobble together that this was in fact a hug and maybe Ruff wasn’t mad at her after all. “Tuff ... couldn’t stop writing about how awesome you are. You stole him right from under their noses. You even got him back his pendant. He ... that’s really important to him. To us. I mean, it’s just an object, but you cared enough about him to see it was important. You treated him like a human.”

She wasn’t trying to damn Astrid with faint praise. The hunters had treated Tuff horribly, worse even than anyone had the right to treat an animal. 

Astrid nodded. “I want to kill them for what they did,” she admitted and it shocked her how saying it brought her close to tears. “For what I saw them do. For what I know they did, and for ... for what I still don’t know.” 

Ruff nodded solemnly. “Join the long and growing line. He was worried when you left and didn’t come back, you know. Are you okay?” 

Her heart oddly beat faster at that. Tuff was worried about  _her_. 

“Why?” She couldn’t help but ask. 

“Because you’re  _Astrid_ , and you don’t take more than thirty minutes to do a two minute job, like checking on sleeping dragons,” Ruff smirked knowingly. She had pulled back a little, but had yet to lower her arms from around Astrid’s shoulders.

The embrace was gentler now and pleasant, grounding her into the world where Tuff was injured but okay. Not dead and buried or being tortured, but alive and safe. 

She could feel herself relaxing slowly, though her anger at Hiccup only quieted to a distant roar. 

“I’ll come back,” was all she could think of to say. Ruff nodded and together they returned to the medic’s hut. 

Dagur was reading what Tuff had written and nodded, returning the slate back to him. “Yep, Fishlegs and Hiccup are fine. And I’m sure they’ll see that Chicken gets her dinner and isn’t lonely.”

Tuff grinned and thanked him by hugging him, which Dagur returned, almost patting his back but then catching himself. Her anger drifted away as she came over to rejoin them. Tuff mouthed her name in relief, taking both her hands. He didn’t say anything else but she could see the concern in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” she lied, sitting on the other side of him. “What about you? You must be exhausted. Do you want to sleep?”

Tuff shook his head and wrote something down, showing it to Astrid. _I don’t want to be alone. _

She wanted to reassure him that they’d all be right there on the island with him, but what good was that if he woke up alone in an unfamiliar bed? “I’ll be sleeping in the bed right next to yours tonight,” she decided.

“We can all sleep in the same room,” Dagur offered. “Even though you’re on an island of stealthy warriors and volcano dragons, it never hurts to have your friends nearby.”

Tuff visibly relaxed, thanking both of them with touches and soft looks. 

Ruffnut tossed an extra pillow onto the bed next her brother’s, while Snotlout stretched out on an adjacent bed against the opposite wall, almost immediately closing his eyes. 

Dagur took the bed nearest the exit, saying it would be too stuffy for him otherwise, but Astrid suspected he was trying to give Tuff some peace of mind. A lightly sleeping Berserker next to the door would give any intruder second thoughts (and many regrets).

She took other bed next to Tuff’s, sandwiching him between herself and Ruff. If he woke and needed either of them, they would be within arm’s reach. 

Astrid didn’t realize how literally her thoughts on that would manifest until she was woken some time in the night by dry, rasping hitches and fingertips brushing across her wrist.

She turned her head to meet Tuff’s wide silver eyes, still in his bed and with the covers bundled around him. He was reaching for her across the gap between their cots, either too sore or terrified to get up.

Astrid took his hand and gripped it, though she was surprised he hadn’t woken Ruff instead. Her snoring from the other bed filled the silence of the room, though she would certainly get up for him without a complaint. 

Tuff squeezed her hand back, gaze looking distant and haunted, and it was then Astrid understood why he’d reached for her.

It was because she  knew . She had been there, she had seen first hand what they’d done and how they had subjugated him. Tuff was without words to describe how it had felt - how it still made him feel. 

With Astrid, he didn’t have to try to explain. She understood. 

Quietly, without letting him go, she got up and approached his bed. Tuffnut’s eyes widened in tearful relief and he moved aside for her, lifting the covers so she could nestle beside him like the previous night. 

His body relaxed noticeably against hers once they were comfortable and settled, eyes shedding those tears and face turning down to try and discreetly wipe them away with the edge of the blanket.

In the moonlit room, Astrid could see the awful abrasions where the collar had been and a scabbing welt across his collarbone, disappearing beneath the nightshirt he’d been given to wear. It was too large for him - probably one of Dagur’s shirts - but it looked soft and comfortable, and that was what mattered. 

Astrid pulled him against her to rest his head against her shoulder and Tuff reciprocated the embrace, hiding his face against her collar. She didn’t know what to say, so she held him back and gave into the urge to trail her fingers lightly over his braids. Tuff’s breath caught and he swallowed, hugging her a bit tighter in encouragement.

She kept doing it, stroking his hair until his breath evened out and slowed. His warm weight pinned her in place and some small voice in the back of her skull scolded and nagged that she should get up and go back to her own bed,  _what would people think_ if she stayed here until morning - what would _Hiccup_ think?

Astrid ignored it and closed her eyes, resting her cheek against Tuff’s forehead.

She wasn’t sure if she really cared anymore, what Hiccup would think.

***

It was Stormfly’s answering roar to a Night Fury’s that woke her up. Astrid bolted awake,a knife in her hand, hair disheveled and in her eyes. 

Her other arm was smashing Tuff protectively against her side. He squirmed in discomfort, waking to blink up at her. 

“Oh!” Astrid let him go, face reddening. “You okay?” 

Tuff nodded and from the other bed Ruff gave an exaggerated yawn, stretching her arms above her head. Astrid stayed put but Tuff leapt out of the bed like he’d been in scalding water, shooting Astrid a horrified apologetic glance. He grabbed his leggings off the table and started dressing. 

Snotlout was snoring away still, not one to wake up for anything short of a Thunderhorn ‘Morning Broadcast’.Dagur sat up, looking around owlishly. His red hair was sticking up all on one side and Astrid almost snorted with laughter. He looked hilarious. 

It took the Berserker only a moment to realize what had woken them all and he got up, grinning.

“Heather! Hiccup! Fishy!” 

He ran out the door after that odd announcement but it galvanized Snotlout to throw himself out of bed and onto the floor. He took off running after Dagur. “No you don’t! It’s _my_ turn to say hi first!”

Ruff just snickered, in no real hurry to leave bed and probably still a bit too smashed to try. Astrid sighed and got up. It was close enough to morning, right?

She pulled on her boots next to her bed and tried to fix her hair. Tuff was struggling to get his boots on, expression hazy with pain and discomfort. Astrid gave up her efforts, kneeling in front of him to help. 

As she laced them up, Tuff touched a loose braid of her hair, moving it out of her eyes so she could see. 

Astrid looked up to see him give her a questioning smile, holding up her smaller braid. He was asking if he could help and she couldn’t see any reason why not to allow it. She nodded, sitting in front of him on the bed.

Tuff’s fingers were dexterous and gentle as he let her hair down the rest of the way, unbraiding the mess and gathering it all up. He straightened out all the snarls and tangles and re-braided it into her usual style - surprisingly quick.

“Thanks,” she murmured, once he patted her shoulder to let her know he was finished. Questing fingers admired his handiwork - he was really good at this. 

Astrid got up, holding out her hand to him. “Coming with me to see them?”

Tuffnut nodded and took it, pausing only to haul Ruff out of her bed with his other hand.“Ugh, alright! I wanted to be fashionably late,” Ruff protested, but only half heartedly. 

Fishlegs beamed when he saw them running to him and scooped Astrid up into a bear hug. The Twins didn’t wait their turn, both piling onto them until he shrieked, overbalanced, and fell onto his back. 

“We’re so happy you’re not dead!” Ruff shouted, and Tuff shared the same sentiment with a grin, nodding. Astrid wheezed, sandwiched in with the lot of them, but happy. 

They were all together and safe - Viggo hadn’t succeeded in separating them forever. 

“You’re okay, Fishlegs?” She asked anyway as they sat up, unable to help it. “No injuries?”

“No - they just shoved me in a cell and ignored me for the most part. Otherwise I had to read a lot of letters from wives and sons - apparently a literate prisoner is pretty valuable among dragon hunters.”

She nodded in relief. “It must have taken Hiccup and Heather a while to track you,” Astrid commiserated. 

“It only took them nine days. Razorwhips are actually amazing trackers - possibly because they’re born blind. We would have come back sooner but on the way Hiccup found an entirely new dragon species and we just had to take a few days to document them.” 

Astrid’s blood ran cold and time seemed to slow with a deafening crash. “What ...?” she asked flatly. 

“A new dragon species, huh,” Ruff asked, folding her arms.

Fishlegs read the sudden mood and looked immediately guilty. “W-We didn’t mean to worry you guys. We sent a terror -“

“Yeah, we got the terror,” Ruff snapped. “Saying you were rescued and that all of you were ‘on your way’ back to the Edge. It didn’t mention your little field trip.” 

Dismay and confusion flitted across Legs’ face.

“We were all stressed from the rescue, Ruff. Hiccup thought it would be a good idea to rest and recuperate for just a little, before we all joined up again.” Fishlegs looked from Astrid to Ruff then finally at Tuffnut, who wasn’t looking at anyone. He was instead looking down, biting his lip. 

Fishlegs gasped, leaning closer. “What happened to your neck?” 

Instead of answering, unable to answer, Tuff gave him a pained look and got up abruptly, heading back toward the medic’s hut. 

Astrid’s stomach sank. She couldn’t imagine what he must be feeling right now. 

They could have been back four days earlier. If they had done what they were supposed to, had seen Tuff and Astrid weren’t back yet, had read the reports she had been sending back ... had come to help her ... 

It might have made all the difference in the world to Tuff. 

Stomach clenching, she reached out and squeezed Fishleg’s shoulder as he tried to pry out information from Ruff’s pressed angry lips. 

It wasn’t entirely his fault. It wasn’t Heather’s either.

Hiccup had talked them into it, had assured them the others were probably  fine . Hiccup had just taken for granted that everything would turn out for the best for everyone, because why wouldn’t it?

Bad things happened to _other_ people . 

Ruffnut was simmering, ready to boil over, but Astrid tried taking some of the pressure off by calmly speaking. 

“I only got Tuff back the night before last. It was ... he isn’t okay, Fishlegs. They hurt him pretty bad.”

“They made him fucking  _mute_,” Ruff snarled, glaring daggers in Hiccup’s direction. “He had to wear a fucking collar like a dog, and they beat the _crap_ out of him -“

Fishlegs had gone white as a sheet. 

“What? Why?!” 

“Why wouldn’t they?!” Ruff snapped, getting up. “They’re dragon hunters, not fucking little kids who like story time! You got extremely lucky, and I’m happy you aren’t hurt, but you - you _all_ should have come back right away! Or at least lied better, because Tuff _needed_ your help! He certainly didn’t need to hear that you weren’t even thinking about him!”

Her voice broke and she stormed back to the hut, a little unevenly but determinedly in the right direction. Fishlegs stammered a horrified apology but Astrid shook her head. She really didn’t know what to say - to make any of this better. 

All she could think of was the way Tuff had cried in anguish against that tree - silently, painfully, terrified of what these men wanted to do to him. Of him shakily holding up two fingers to tell her how long ago they had stripped his voice away from him.

None of it had to happen. 

“What was all that about?” Hiccup’s voice asked behind them. 

Astrid stood and turned. Behind Hiccup’s bemused expression, she saw Snotlout fuming in disbelief, arms crossed over his chest. Heather looked worried while Dagur ... 

Dagur looked like a puppy who’d been just purposefully kicked in the face.

Astrid took a slow breath in and tried to be calm, cool, and collected. There were only so many words she could think of to say right now and none of them were nice. 

“You made a _really_ bad call, Hiccup,” was what she managed. “We had a plan. You were supposed to come back as soon as possible.”

“I know, Astrid, you’re right, I’m sorry,” he dismissed easily, but gave her a charming grin. “I missed you too.”

Hiccup leaned in to kiss her. 

His lips met her fist, lightning fast, decking him hard enough to send him onto his back on the sand. 

“You  _dense_ mother fucker!” Astrid erupted at him as he moaned, hands over his bleeding mouth.

“Okay, okay - too soon -“ he tried to smooth over, muffled behind his fingers, “I can see you’re very upset -“

“Yeah, I’m upset - we’re _all_ upset , and you don’t _know_ or even fucking _care_ why that is, Hiccup!” Astrid was fuming, every bone in her body telling her she should just start kicking him and never stop - not until he was at least two feet deep in the earth.

“Well, you could tell me or keep screaming at me like a crazy person, I guess,” Hiccup snarked back, on the defensive. 

“Oh wow, I can’t watch this, it’s just too embarrassing -“ Snotlout moaned. He tugged on Dagur’s arm, just leading him away. “Come on, we’ll come back to bury his remains later.” 

Heather followed, eyes wide with confused alarm, and asking Snotlout something but Astrid couldn’t hear over the furious teakettle siren in her head.

Unlike with Fishlegs, who had also wisely slunk off, Astrid had no interest in holding back. 

“You want to know why I’m furious with you? Fine. First ask me how Tuffnut is. I want to be able to tell him that you at least asked after him, even though you had to be reminded.” 

Hiccup’s glower shattered. “I’m sorry. Of course I’m- I mean - I - I saw him hugging Fishlegs so I thought he was fine ... Is he okay? What happened?”

All the fury left her at Hiccup’s immediate surrender, making her feel drained and small and tired. She wanted abruptly to go home, to Berk, and curl up in her bed with a mug of warm soup - rather than have to tell Hiccup what Tuff had gone through. 

Right now, Hiccup looked like a little boy about to be scolded by his dad. He didn’t look very much like a leader at all.

“No, he’s not okay. A lot of horrible things happened to him. It happened while you were off discovering a new dragon. Did you just ... _forget_ he'd been captured?”

“I ... Tuff’s always been okay. And _you_ went after him, Astrid. I knew he’d be okay and you’d bring him back -“

“He _isn't_ okay this time!” She shouted at him, but there was no venom. Only pain. “He didn’t get a cozy jail cell like Fishlegs did!” 

Part of her guts squirmed uncomfortably, wondering if Viggo had orchestrated the cruel dichotomy of how their friends were treated by separate groups. Another ‘valuable lesson’ for Hiccup. 

“Tuff talks with a piece of slate and a lump of chalk now, Hiccup - and he possibly always will. That happened two days ago, among other things - which he can’t tell us about, but there’s more than enough evidence to tell the story. I lost his trail and found it after they prevented him from leaving any more clues. I sent back reports to tell you where he was, I - I could have used your  help, Hiccup! It was just me and Stormfly against twenty!If - if something had gone wrong, if I couldn’t have gotten him out when I did -“ 

“But you _did_ get him out, Astrid,” Hiccup said, trying to soothe her, but she flared. He was missing the point entirely.

“Maybe I could have done it sooner with backup! Maybe he didn’t have to get whipped and terrorized and tortured while I waited five feet away, able to do nothing but watch and wait for them to leave him alone! Maybe you could have all caught up to me sooner, maybe Windshear could have tracked him faster, before they made him  _drink fire-fern sap!”_

“ They did  WHAT?!”  Hiccup cried out, finally looking appropriately shaken. “They- oh, gods ...” He sounded like he was about to be ill. 

_Good_ , Astrid thought, a little viciously.

“But we won’t ever know what could have happened instead of _this_ fantastic reality, will we? Maybe you couldn’t have made any difference at all, even if you had been available - but all I know for certain is that you decided  **not** to be! And that hurts like hell. It hurts Tuff, it hurts  me, it hurts all of us! Like I  said, Hiccup - you made a  _really_ _fucking_ _bad_ call.” 

He said nothing, just sitting there in the sand, eyes wet and looking immeasurably sorry. 

She was half afraid to leave him, worried he might try to do something dumb like go attack another one of Viggo’s ships in retaliation. As though that would somehow help. 

Toothless would have the sense not to let him, she figured - hoped so, at least.

Astrid was tired, and all she wanted to do was check on Tuff and then go sleep for a couple of decades. 

“I’m going to go take some time to calm down and see if Tuff needs anything,” Astrid said, voice wavering dangerously on the edge of tears. “I’ll ... talk to you later, Hiccup.” 

She made her way to the hut in the early morning twilight, not once looking back at him. 


	5. Chapter 5

Ruff was on the bed, laying back and staring through the ceiling. There was no sign of Tuff. She held up a hand before Astrid could form her startled question and then pointed to the bed next to hers.

More specifically, to underneath it.

Oh ... 

Astrid could see the shadow which outlined his form beneath the frame and got down on her hands and knees, crawling under the overhanging blankets to join him.

Tuff had always liked the space beneath beds - or rather, that’s where he could be found when he didn’t like himself. Sure enough, his face was hidden behind his arms, legs curled toward his chest. His breathing was tightly controlled, and a tremor occasionally raced through him, but otherwise he lay perfectly still, hiding.

It reminded her of the time she had found a fawn in the grass, trying to blend in until its mother returned.

“Tuff,” she murmured and unthinkingly stroked fingers across his hair, settling to lay on her side near him. Astrid couldn’t think of a thing to say to make him feel better. She was furious at Hiccup’s thoughtlessness, but ranting about it would only make it hurt more. Should she try and make excuses for him? Th at seemed worse somehow.

Tuff peered at her from behind his arms and shifted, reaching to pull out his slate and chalk - which he’d been apparently curled on top of. Shakily he wrote something and handed it to her.

_ How do I make myself worth something? _

Astrid could feel her heart break.

“That’s - that’s not - _Tuff_ -“ she protested.“You already _are_!”

He looked at her and pulled back the slate, adding two words.

_ ...  to Hiccup? _

“You _are_,” Astrid’s lips said again, but her brain hissed that it meant nothing coming from her. 

Tuff let out a silent sob, angrily erasing the words and writing more. It looked like he was having trouble even seeing the slate - breathing too fast, eyes brimming with tears, but he managed and gave the slate back. 

His writing was wild, erratic and he’d crammed the words in to make as many fit as possible and after he handed over the slate, he pressed the heels of his palms against his eye sockets as though he could make himself stop crying that way.

_ Please I won’t ever annoy Hiccup or pull any pranks on him again and I’ll do all the chores he wants me to do - I’ll do everyone’s chores - I’m sorry for everything I ever did to annoy him I won’t do it again ever ever ever please - please I’m sorry I’m sorry I won’t be useless anymore please don’t send me away don’t leave me - _

Heart aching, Astrid put the slate aside and pulled him into a fierce hug that all but crushed him against her. “_Nobody_ is going to send you away and _nobody_ is going to leave you,” she promised, tone oddly calm. 

Tuff let out a wail or tried to - only a horrible broken noise wrenched out of him and turned to silent rasping. He didn’t reach for the slate again but he pushed her back by the shoulders so he could mouth words and she could see them.

_I’m sorry_,  he mouthed, over and over.  _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry_ \-  He didn’t appear to be stopping for air.

“Tuff, breathe -“ Astrid pleaded, hitching slightly. She cupped his face between her hands and stroked his hair, trying to calm him and make him stop talking. “Breathe with me. Inhale - “ She took in a breath and let it out slowly. “Then exhale, do it with me this time.”

Tuff shuddered but after she did it twice, he joined her, matching her breath for breath. She kept his face in her hands, lightly stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. 

“Good, you’re doing good,” she praised him genuinely and only then she felt him start to relax.

They breathed together a few more times before he started to break down, but when she pulled him close he didn’t resist. Tuff wrapped his arms around her and held on, bawling silently into her shoulder and shaking.

Astrid held onto him, just letting him cry and sort of wishing she’d punched a hole through Hiccup’s head. 

Tuff felt like this because of _him_. He didn’t ever need to feel like this.

Her hand went up to stroke his hair and his crying didn’t lessen but he relaxed further against her, so she continued.

“Nobody’s going to send you away or leave you, Tuff,” Astrid promised again. “We love you. We want you with us.”

Tuffnut hiccoughed and clung to her, trembling harder, not seeming like he believed it. (Why should he? The stable doors were still open, the dragon long since flown away.) Her heart ached sharply but she swallowed a sob of her own and kept stroking his hair.

“You’re our friend and nobody’s taking you from us again either. And you don’t have to apologize for anything. We failed you.”

Tuff pulled back to look at her, shaking his head. He had no right to look so concerned for _her_, not when he had tears still coursing down his face. 

“I’m serious. We all failed you. Being safe and protected was never a right you had to  _ earn _ . We should never have just assumed you would be alright - or Fishlegs - we shouldn’t have taken anything for granted. On behalf of all of us, I’m sorry.”

She reached up, brushing stray tears off his face and he gripped her wrist gently, looking at her again like she was the sunrise.

Astrid wished he wouldn’t. She was no sunrise; just the girl who couldn’t get there in time.

“It will be different from now on,” she vowed, meaning it, wrapping him up tightly. 

They would be more vigilant, they would stick to plans, be less reckless. Nobody was getting captured or left behind again. ”You’ll see.” 

Tuff nodded into her embrace and closed his eyes, letting himself be held.

——

They were supposed to head back to the Edge by morning, but the late arrival and subsequent fallout had thrown everything off so they decided to go at noon. 

Hiccup had been sulky and subdued for the whole morning’s preparation - apparently even Dagur had some stern words for his ‘little brother’ while Fishlegs and Heather looked positively wretched with remorse. 

Hiccup kept looking at her - at Astrid - quietly asking forgiveness. 

Or possibly for her to at least break her silence and yell at him, but all she could do was saddle Stormfly with effective precision, her motions furious and tongue silent. That was all she had - the rest of her brain raged unhelpfully at the fact he was apparently more worried about gaining her forgiveness than Tuffnut’s.

He probably assumed Tuff had forgiven the whole thing by now. To be fair he wasn’t wrong, but in the worst possible way; Tuff wasn’t mad, he was terrified. His world had been wrenched from him, permanently turned upside down and so far he didn’t have a speck of assurance from his leader that it wouldn’t happen again. 

Those same hunters were still out there. What if they were on the next fleet of ships that attacked the Edge? What if they were part of another ambush or trap? 

She remembered the possessive, hungry way Merch had watched Tuff’s body, touched his skin and hair, and her stomach churned. That couldn’t happen again.

Hiccup finished saddling Toothless and she knew he was working up the courage to try and say something. Unfortunately she had promised to talk to him later, so as much as she wanted to get on Stormfly and fly off, she couldn’t. 

“Astrid ...” Hiccup said and she turned to him, managing to keep her expression neutral. “I was thinking .... instead of going to the Edge, maybe we should head to Berk first. To see if Gothi can do anything for Tuff.”

She thawed a little at that. At least Hiccup was thinking about Tuff.

“No offense to Gothi, but Mala’s healers are more advanced. Dagur knows what fire-fern can do and he did everything he could. Tuff’s voice just might not come back.”

“Well we should try anyway. Maybe Gothi has some old knowledge that nobody else has about restoring voices.”

Astrid looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Hiccup, if you think she has a magic cure for getting voices back, don’t you think she’d have tried it on herself? I don’t think dragging Tuff all the way to Berk is something he’s ready for right now.”

Something about this conversation was bothering her - like there was more to this idea than he was admitting to.

“But maybe he is ready to go to Berk, Astrid. Think about it. He’s had a horrible experience and no way is he going to be safe with us on the Edge with no way to communicate or call for help.”

Her stomach dropped. Was he actually serious?

“Hiccup ...” 

“Berk is populated and heavily armed - he’ll be safe there. Viggo will never hurt him again, and if Gothi can’t heal him, she can teach him how to write.”

“He knows how to write!” Astrid snapped, incensed. “He’s been writing perfectly fine since Dagur gave him a slate and some chalk!”

Hiccup took a step back, but rallied. “Okay, that’s good. Still, I think the best place for him is Berk. He can join the auxiliary team once he feels safe to.”

“Are you making this decision for Ruff too?” She snapped. “For Barf and Belch?”

“I ... what?”

He was lost as to why she was angry. Of course he was. This was just like when she had been temporarily blinded - the first thing he’d done was try to wrest control away from her. 

“Astrid, this isn’t easy for me to think about either. But it’s for his own good.”

“Incredible! The boy with only  one fucking leg  gets to decide when the rest of us are broken beyond usefulness! We get to be ‘retired’ when we aren’t complete!” Astrid shouted and it turned heads but she couldn’t stop herself, Odin help her. “You losing your leg never stopped you!  You didn’t let anyone make you stay home on Berk where it’s safe - so why the hell should anyone else be forced to? We’re a lot stronger than you think we are, Hiccup!”

Hiccup gaped at her, shocked, and Snotlout let out a low whistle, ultimately ruining the others’ positions as flies on the wall.

Astrid stopped her tirade, but rage still boiled inside of her. This felt worse than just a misguided attempt to protect Tuff. At least with her blindness, Hiccup had stayed with her when she asked and talked to her, but now she knew with certainty that he hadn’t tried to talk to Tuff once all morning.

Hiccup was ashamed, and instead of trying to deal with it and accept failure and try to do better, he was trying to bury the evidence. 

Why not bury it on Berk? He wouldn’t have to face what he’d let happen every day if Tuff wasn’t on the Edge.

“He wants to stay with us, so he’s going to stay with us. Nobody is going to make him leave.”

And now she had to leave, because she was either going to punch him again or yell some more. Astrid got on Stormfly and the Nadder turned, trotting down the beach. She gripped the pommel too hard, slightly trembling and hating the tears stinging her eyes.

Eventually, a dragon’s footsteps sounded behind her, but thankfully they didn’t belong to Toothless.

“Astrid, are you okay?” Heather asked. 

She bit her lip, relieved beyond words that it was Heather. Astrid shook her head. “It sucks finding out someone you love is a coward.” 

The words had fallen out of her lips and there was no taking them back, but Heather reached over and put her hand on Astrid’s shoulder.

“I heard enough of that argument. It’s hard to face your own mistakes, but ... he really wanted to send Tuff back?”

“Yep. When he can’t fix things, he runs from them,” Astrid spat, then sighed shakily. “This is why I had to walk away. I’m ... not feeling very nice right now.”

“I’m not sure you’re the only one. The others were giving him a hard time before I went after you. Snotlout was telling him just how lucky he was Ruff hadn’t heard any of that. Something about how all the sage fruit on the island wouldn’t save his life if she had.”

Heather paused. “I met the Twins family once. When ... when I came to your island the first time.” 

Astrid knew what she was referring to. When Heather had tried to befriend everyone to get the Book of Dragons to Alvin. Simpler times. 

“Charming aren’t they,” she deadpanned. 

“Hardly.” Heather’s voice was tight, bitter, and Astrid looked at her, making a prompting noise. 

“Tuff had to go back home for something - he wanted to gift me a necklace made with some deer teeth he’d found in the woods. I heard his dad call him into the next room. Hit him so hard he fell down. Tuff ran upstairs, then came back into to the kitchen a different way, with the necklace. Split lip, blood on his teeth ... and smiling, like nothing at all had happened. All he said was that we needed to use a different door next time.”

Astrid nodded grimly. “It hasn’t gotten any better since then. That’s another reason I don’t want him getting sent home. He  will not be any safer on Berk.”

Heather gave her an inquisitive look. “You sound almost as protective as Ruffnut.”

Her face flushed and she looked away. “Well, right now he’s ... I’m worried about him. I’m worried about what he thinks of himself. He needs to know he’s worth a lot more than he thinks he is.”

“You’ll have help,” Heather promised her. “Dagur and I want to go to the Edge with you and stay for a while. Just in case Viggo tries anything else, and also to keep you all company. It’s been awhile since we all hung out together and Tuff could probably use the distraction.”

Astrid smiled, starting to relax. “That sounds great, Heather. I’ve missed you guys too.”

Gods knew they all needed something to look forward to before the real work began. The Edge would need repaired and fortified in some areas - honestly, in a lot of areas. Viggo had slipped past the standard defenses so it was time to ‘think outside of the wooden crate’ as Gobber had once put it.

She sighed and patted Stormfly’s flank, telling her to turn around and go back to the others. Astrid felt she had cooled off enough; was time to join everyone and get back to the Edge, even if it meant facing Hiccup. 

——-

Things had been tense upon her return, but so far they were manageable. 

Ruffnut had absolutely crammed both their satchels full of coconuts, sage fruit, avocados, guavas and mangoes - clearly being opportunistic. To be fair this island was lousy with them, and the locals were probably relieved to have less windfall.

The Twins were on Barf and Belch,ready to go. Ruff offered Astrid a tired smile and half a coconut. Tuff was eating his with a knife, prying out the white meat and practically inhaling it off the blade. It was probably one of the few solid things he could eat. She half expected him to go on a ramble about its natural benefits before she remembered. 

He offered her a grin when he saw her but otherwise kept his gaze toward the ground. There was an exhausted wariness to the way he was sitting and his eyes flickered hopefully toward Hiccup whenever he addressed somebody. Right now Hiccup was thanking Mala for hosting them and giving them medical aid.

Clearly, Hiccup had yet to talk to him. 

Coward , Astrid thought again, uncharitably, but she wasn’t in the mood to start another argument. She hung back to fly with the Twins and since they had more fliers in their group, the formation was different from their usual one so it hardly mattered.

The first half hour was mostly silent - some banter or small talk here and there, but Tuff didn’t even try to participate. He looked completely disheartened and when she suggested they write back and forth, Ruff answered that he was too worried he’d drop his slate or chalk into the ocean.

It was an odd excuse, but Astrid understood. He was upset over Hiccup and on top of that, this was probably difficult for him - not being able to yell to his friends over the wind currents. It was sinking in, just how isolating not having a voice was.

“Hey, think fast!” someone shouted all of a sudden. An object went hurtling toward Tuff. He sat up straight and caught it, looking wide-eyed at Dagur, who grinned back at him.

“Throw it over here!” Snotlout yelled and Tuff‘s face broke out into a delighted grin, tossing the crudely sewn leather ball at his friend. 

Astrid’s heart lifted and by her elated expression, so had Ruff’s. “Hey, don’t leave the ladies out!” she laughed.

“It’s girls against boys, so get the ball yourself!” Snot razzed her and Ruffnut gave a mock shout of outrage. When the ball got back to Tuff she lunged for it and he pulled back, allowing Astrid to swipe it, throwing it to Heather. 

It was an incredibly fun game - Ruff and Tuff constantly stealing the ball from one another, Fishlegs shrieking whenever it was thrown at his head, Dagur and Heather trading catty barbs about which one of them had the worst aim. Hiccup had flown far ahead, but for once Astrid barely noticed. 

Nobody was really keeping score - it was all just pointless fun. After an hour of playing, Snotlout called a break and wheedled at Ruff to share our some of the coconuts she’d pilfered. She tossed him a mango instead.

“No, I hate these!” he hollered in offended protest.

“Mangos are good for digestion and you aren’t getting  our nuts! You should have grabbed your own!”

Tuff snorting into his hand and Dagur’s infectious cackling set everyone else off. 

By late afternoon they reached the Edge. Everyone took care of their dragons, making sure they had food, water and a nice rub down of tired wing muscles. It had been such a long flight, and they were exhausted. 

Stormfly crowed happily as she entered her stall, all but flopping face-first into her nest. Poor tired girl. Astrid fussed over her, giving her scales and wing membranes some much needed oil.

“Hey, look who’s happy to see you, Boynut!” Dagur said, coming again into the stables. Chicken clucked loudly, squirming in his arms and kicking her feet the moment she laid her eyes in Tuff and he gasped in delight, momentarily stopping his massage of Belch’s wing to rush over.

Dagur found it was easier to just let Chicken go and she flapped her way into Tuff’s arms, fussing and cackling up a storm. 

“Wow, she let you pick her up? I’m impressed, Dagur,” Ruff grinned, working her fingers along Barf’s neck. 

“I told her Tuff was back,” he shrugged.

“Hey, anyone up for some treats?” Hiccup called out, walking in with a bucket in each hand. 

“Ooh, what did you bring us?” Snotlout asked. He had decidedly _not_ been satisfied with his mango.

“Sorry, Snotlout, uh, I meant for the dragons. Look, Stormfly - it’s your favorite! Gotta get your energy up.”

He reached into one of the buckets, pulling out something rawly pink and drumstick shaped, tossing it to the Nadder. She ate it up eagerly, jaws breaking up bones and flesh. 

Chicken squawked loudly, having an absolute conniption fit, and Tuff covered her eyes, rushing out of the stables. His distressed look as he bolted was hard to miss.

Hiccup just went on feeding her dragon - obviously performing some kind of attempt at a peace offering. 

A peace offering meant for  _her_.

Not Tuff, the person his actions had actually hurt.

Astrid patted Stormfly and walked off without a word, not even acknowledging Hiccup. Let him take care of giving the dragons treats then, if that’s all he was going to do. 

“I can make dinner tonight!” Heather offered, a little too loudly in the sudden awkward silence that followed. 

“Oh, uh yeah, I’ll help - there’s some fresh beans ready for harvest in my garden,” Fishlegs chimed in. They all started talking at once and she hurried off, looking for Tuff.

He wasn’t in the Twins’ hut, not even under the bed. She looked in Snotlout’s hut, in the boar pits, in his favorite hollowed out tree, and she was about to circle back and check the hot springs when she heard the sound of someone hammering nails.

Curious, she followed the sound to find Chicken scratching for worms in a patch of dirt next to Hiccup’s hut, while Tuff, balancing on the second highest rung of a ladder, holding nails in his mouth, was attempting to fix a burnt out hole with a plank of wood.

He had made a pile of planks next to the ladder, clearly intent on starting the repairs early. Intent on making himself useful. 

Astrid’s heart felt odd, broken and melted all at once.She would have stood there watching for longer but Tuff swayed too far and scrambled to catch himself against the building, nails and hammer dropping to the ground as he gasped in pain. 

Oh, right. Tuff should absolutely  not be doing physical labor right now, nor should he be anywhere near a ladder.

She moved quickly, arms raised to catch him if he should fall. 

“Hey, Hey, Tuff - come down from there, okay? We can start repairs tomorrow - there’s no rush.”

He looked at her in surprise but shook his head and clung to the top step, pointing at the hammer on the ground and holding his hand out - asking her to hand it to him. 

“You’re in pain,” Astrid protested softly. She didn’t like the feverish desperation in his eyes, not one bit. “Ladders are not your friend right now. Let Barf and Belch rest up and then you can have a much safer height to work from, okay?”

Tuff looked crestfallen but nodded, starting to climb down. She watched so that he didn’t fall but he swayed again when he stepped away. Astrid put her hands on his waist to steady him.

“I’d love your help with my hut tomorrow. Why don’t we go look at what needs done and by then, dinner should be ready.”

Tuff’s eyes lit up at that - at being  useful \- and again her heart felt a little stab of pain.

When they got to her hut, she was almost pleased to find it had more damage than she’d thought. Astrid gave Tuff a sheet of paper, telling him to mark down the supplies she’d need as she stepped or pressed on areas that had taken damage, testing the boards.

Tuff wrote down everything she said, and as they worked, his eyes brightened and the awful tension in his shoulders left, allowing him to relax. 

“That should be it,” Astrid said, when she could find or think of nothing else. She came to sit on the bed, pulling Tuff to sit beside her and he looked at her in surprise. 

“Aren’t you exhausted? You could have sat down to write the supplies.”

Tuff shrugged and leaned against her, resting his head on her shoulder. Astrid put an arm around him, tempted to lay them both down across the bed on top of the soft quilt her mom had made for her fifteenth birthday. 

Hell, why not. She heard Tuff’s faint squeak of surprise as she pulled him down with her, though he stayed nestled against her side.

Tuff let out a shaky sigh and sought her hand to hold. She gave it to him, pressing a kiss to his temple, and felt him relax. Moments later he was asleep, breathing softly against her shoulder.

Astrid could not blame him one bit. A soft clucking from below made her look and she saw Chicken’s neck stretching up to peer at them inquisitively. 

“You can perch on my footboard,” she murmured and after a moment, there was a flapping of wings as Chicken took the offer. 

It would be a few hours until dinner. Until then, Tuff could use all the warmth and love she had to give. 

Astrid closed her eyes, her own exhaustion creeping up on her, and fell asleep with meaning to, her face buried in his hair. 


	6. Chapter 6

Dinner turned out to be a potluck of sorts. There was seared salmon, buttered corn, green beans, garlic and yak butter bread, eel pie, and several different kinds of fruit. Heather had made a delicious chowder with clams and abalone, plus fresh onions, herbs and carrots from Fishlegs’ garden. 

Astrid had to admit it smelled mouthwatering and she reminded herself to get the recipe from Heather later. Tuffnut had liked her food earlier, but as usual, she felt shown up by Heather’s skill. She felt guilty that she hadn’t told anyone to make Tuff some broth or tea, but after tasting some chowder, it seemed like it wouldn’t hurt for him to eat it. 

Tuff, her new shadow, sat next to her, while Ruff and Heather took up the other available seats across from and beside her. Astrid appreciated the seating arrangement, but blushed a little as Ruff leaned over to whisper something to Heather. 

Ruffnut had gone to find Astrid and her brother to let them know it was dinner time and she had found them asleep on Astrid’s bed, curled around each other like drowsy cats in wintertime. Her look had been one of highly entertained amusement when Astrid had opened her eyes, and though she hadn’t explicitly drawled, “Well, well,  well ...” , Ruff’s expression had all but screeched it to the entire Archipelago while banging on pots and pans. 

And of course she was telling Heather, though her raven haired friend only nodded while tactfully speaking aloud about another subject entirely. (“Yes, the green beans were a little early, but they taste just fine steamed in yak butter.” Bless Heather for not even teasing her a little.) 

Tuff lightly elbowed her for attention, asking in writing if she was alright. He had a pensive worried expression, as though he felt he had gotten her into big trouble by being discovered in her bed. 

Astrid offered him a smile. “Everything’s fine, Tuff. It seems like you should be able to eat the chowder? Maybe you can even dip the bread in it to soften it up.”

Tuff, half of the notorious duo that never turned down free food, only shrugged, looking past it. 

Worry flooded her immediately. Was he ill? Maybe just overwhelmed at actually being home? 

He was starting to write something down when Hiccup came over. Tuff went still as Hiccup looked over the seating arrangements and found no place to sit other than beside either of the Twins. He sat down next to Tuff, and only then offered him a smile. 

It was strained, but Tuff brightened up considerably. He scribbled something down and showed it to Hiccup, just as he was about to try talking to Astrid around him.

Hiccup read it and guilt flashed through his eyes. 

“Uh ... oh. I ... well, the dragons we found ... I can show you my sketches ...” Hiccup fumbled and produced a few folded up pieces of paper from his pockets, handing them over. Tuff opened them up and smiled endearingly, scribbling away on his slate.

Hiccup read it and seemed even more perplexed and a little uncomfortable, almost like he didn’t know what to do with himself.For a moment, Astrid thought he might get up and leave the table.

“Yeah, sure, you - you can name them. Seems only fair, and you’re pretty good at names ...”

He offered Tuff an uneasy grin, clearly having not expected the total forgiveness he’d seemingly just been granted.

As Tuff erased and hovered over the now blank slate, Hiccup leaned around him and shot Astrid a cheerful grin. “Hey. Did you get some rest?”

“Yes,” she said curtly, pouring herself some water. She did not say anything to further the conversation. Talking to Tuff for less than half a minute wasn’t impressive.

“Well, um. Good, that’s great,” Hiccup said awkwardly, sitting straight. He turned to look at Tuff’s left side and Astrid knew he was able to see the raised welt arcing down Tuff’s throat and collarbone, disappearing beneath the line of his tunic. He could see the still healing scabs from where the collar had chafed open his skin, the bruised fingerprints traveling along his bare arm. 

“So, uh, Tuff ... why did you drink the fire fern?” Hiccup asked him and his bluntness made Astrid spill water down her front, turning to cough into her arm. “I mean, why did you have to?”

Tuff’s slate was still blank. Usually he would have come up with a list of possible names by now, but he seemed to be stuck on this one. He looked over at Hiccup, seeming startled by the question, then back to the slate.

Shakily he wrote his answer and Astrid was unable to stop herself glancing over to read it. 

_ It was because I tried yelling for dragons. And it worked. The camp got invaded by a passing herd of Speed Stingers and the hunters got paralyzed. Nobody untied me though because Speed Stingers don’t have thumbs. Guess I didn’t think that one through. _

Tuff grinned sheepishly and Astrid felt a pang at what he was clearly leaving out. When nobody laughed, waiting tensely for the rest of his story, he sighed and added more.

_ After they all unfroze, the foreman was very upset because we had wasted a whole day’s journey. So they decided it wouldn’t happen again.  _

“But ... fire fern? Why on earth would you actually drink it?” Hiccup asked, mystified. “Couldn’t you have just spat it out instead of swallowing it?”

How dare he insinuate that Tuff was stupid. That this was Tuff’s  fault . Astrid bristled, snapping. “He didn’t have a choice, Hiccup!”

“It’s not even a choice - it’s common sense!” Hiccup protested, standing up.

“Maybe they covered his mouth so he couldn’t spit it out! You don’t get to guess what he went through or how he could have done it differently!” She shot back, rising to meet him.

Tuff wrote something quickly, flailing for their attention. 

_ Please don’t fight? It isn’t worth it. _

“Yes, it is!” Hiccup yelled. “How could you let them hurt you this badly? Why didn’t you disobey the one time you were supposed to? Fire fern sap can’t be easy to collect- you could have just smacked it out of their hands!”

She could understand  why  Hiccup was saying all this. It was easier for him to blame Tuff, to lament that his friend hadn’t gotten away unscathed this time, like he had all the other times the hunters had captured them and Hiccup had made poor judgements. Of course it would seem unfair that the things hadn’t gone the way Hiccup thought they should, like they had all of the other times. 

However, when Tuff flinched at his anger, looking distraught and confused. Astrid lost all sympathy for Hiccup.

“Hiccup!” She snapped and Ruff stood up as well, putting her arm around her twin’s shoulders and glaring daggers at their leader.

Tuff was visibly affected by Hiccup’s anger, but wrote his answer determinedly and showed it to them. He was shaking so badly that Ruff had to help him hold the slate steady. 

_ I didn’t obey. I couldn’t make myself open my mouth so they held me down and forced my jaws open with metal wedges and poured it in. It was either swallow or choke, and it burned worse than anything but there was absolutely nothing I could do, I swear. I fought as hard as I could, but it wasn’t enough. _

Hiccup turned white as a sheet and Astrid couldn’t speak for her own complexion but she felt suddenly drained. She put her hand on Tuff’s arm and he gave her an apologetic look, as though he had to apologize for anything.

“Excuse me,” Hiccup muttered and left. Presumably to ride off on Toothless and feel sorry for himself. 

Tuff opened his mouth in dismay and tried to call after him, producing only brokenshards of sound. He winced in pain and watched brokenly after Hiccup before giving Astrid a beseeching look and scribbled a question.

_ How do I fix this? _

Astrid blew her bangs out of her face, hand on Tuff’s arm and infuriated beyond belief. Her voice was gentle when she spoke to him, though. “That isn’t your job, Tuff.”

Heather picked up a bowl. “Anybody want salad?” She offered, a little too brightly.

——-

When dinner was over, the gang cleared the dishes and moved back tables and chairs so they could all relax around the fire. Dagur practically had to carry Tuff away from doing any of the work, insisting that this party was for him and Fishlegs and neither of them were obligated to do anything but enjoy being home.

Tuff hadn’t eaten very much. He usually piled his plate high and ate it with alarming speed, but this time he’d eaten slowly and without much interest. Astrid wasn’t sure what to do.

They were sitting around the fire now, talking and telling stories. Though they had given Tuff plenty of opportunities to write, he seemed not to have anything to say.

Tuff was sitting beside her on a fur pallet near the hearth, his shoulders set against her knee, and the warm bricks sandwiching him in on his right. He could rest his head in her lap if he wanted to. (Astrid ignored the knowing smirk on Ruff’s face since glowering at her procured no difference.)

Chicken was nestled against Tuff’s chest, cradled into the curve of his arm with her little feet sticking straight out. He was absently rubbing her neck feathers which she had puffed up into a crown so he could better get in between them and her eyes were closed to content slits. 

There was mead and slices of coconut and sage fruit being passed around and Astrid partook of both, needing to be unable to get angry for a while. She was so sick and tired of being angry.

Instead she drank and ate and watched Tuff. His long fingers stroking through soft plumage, the way his collarbone rose and fell with each breath. The way his eyelashes framed his silvery eyes. In the firelight, his hair glimmered with shining strands of gold and red.

Those hunters had called him pretty, but  pretty was an empty cheap description and they hadn’t valued him nearly a fraction of what he was worth. 

He was breathtaking.

“. . . Astrid . . . Aaaaastriiiiid . . . Hello!”

She blinked back to attention. They were all staring at her. 

“What?”

“Don’t disturb her, Snotlout, can’t you see she’s  mesmerized? ” Ruff drawled, twirling a strand of her hair. Turning bright red, Astrid was absolutely ready to kill her, but there was something suddenly pinning her leg and preventing her from moving. 

She looked down to see that Tuff had fallen asleep, cheek resting against on her thigh and Chicken still cuddled in his arm. Astrid squeaked, frozen in some awful mix of elation and mortification. There was a snicker and few muffled explosions of laughter - probably at her entirely red face.

Oh no. Oh no, they were laughing and it was going to wake Tuff up, and he needed rest, and what if he woke and thought they were all laughing at  him ... he would get the wrong idea and he’d had enough heartbreak for a lifetime ... 

Astrid did the only thing her mind could think of in its current state. (Was it generally a bad idea to mix mead and sage fruit? Because it  felt like it probably was.) She stood up, hoisted Tuff up in her arms and carried him bodily away from the entire situation. 

The teasing laughter stopped abruptly, giving way to either baffled noises or blessed silence. Astrid kept going, taking Tuff straight to the Twins’ hut. 

He woke up, looking around hazily as she moved, carrying him across the rope bridge from the Clubhouse to the Zippleback-shaped hut as though he weighed no more than a folded blanket.

Astrid offered him a reassuring grin and before long was settling him onto his bed. Chicken squirmed until he let her go, allowing the bird to fly up into her little coop while Astrid undid his boots and slipped them off so she could get him comfortable. She drew a blanket over him, unaware he was watching her intently in the dim light. 

Tuff grabbed her hands before she could leave him to sleep. He sat up, looking at her imploringly. 

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Astrid offered, though her face still burned.

The others were probably roaring their heads off at the Clubhouse right now, and she couldn’t blame them. It was sort of funny - though she truly was never again touching sagefruit or mead within hours of each other.

They could laugh at her, not at Tuff. For his sake, Astrid was ready to go back and insist that Tuff was tucked up in bed, and that Absolutely Nothing At All Had Happened. 

That apparently wasn’t what he wanted, though: Tuff didn’t let go of her hands, pulling gently for her to join him on the bed. Astrid looked reluctant until he spoke. 

It was just a few words and they were whisper-thin and ragged.

“Can’t sleep. Stay. Please,” Tuff had managed, voice breathy, fragmented - expression crackling in pain at each word. She wanted to cry. How could she refuse?

“I’ll stay,” she agreed, and crawled up to nestle between him and the cold wall. Tuff rolled over and buried his face against her throat. He breathed easier and held on, shivering less as she sought to comfort him with careful and gentle touches. She lightly traced patterns on his face and scalp and the unbruised areas of his shoulder and arm.

Tuff clung to her, his breathing evening out. He pressed against her like he was afraid he might be ripped away from her in the dark. 

Astrid’s heart ached. There was so much he was afraid now of that she could only guess. He had been a captive for thirteen days and she only knew what she’d observed about the cruelty of the last few.

She kissed his brow and his temple. “You’re safe now,” she promised him. “You’re home. I’m not letting anyone take you away ever again.” 

Tuff balled up against her, and trembled violently. She put her hands on his back, confused for a moment. 

Oh ... oh wait, he was crying. Shit ... shit, she had messed up ...

Astrid made a distressed noise but Tuffnut hugged her too tightly to let her get up.His mouth moved against her shoulder, trying to talk but only broken fragments of words spilled out from his lips. It looked like agony to let out even that much noise. At last Astrid soothed him enough to get him to stop trying to speak.

“You’re hurting yourself - your poor throat.” Astrid said, wiping away his tears with her thumb. 

Tuff hitched and looked around for his slate and Astrid remembered that she had just grabbed him out of there, leaving it behind.

“I know where it is,” she said, feeling terrible. “I can go get it.” 

He seized her hands to keep her from leaving, shaking his head. Tuff motioned for her to stay and climbed off onto the ground, looking for something.He came back onto the bed in short order with a crumpled wad of blank pages and a stick of black charcoal, starting to write painstakingly. Astrid lit a candle on his bedside table so he could see.

_ You didn’t do anything wrong,  _ was the first thing he wrote.  _I’m making everyone fight and I hate it. I’m not mad at Hiccup or anyone. I just want my voice back, so I can make everyone laugh and forget this and stop being so pathetic._

“You aren’t pathetic!” Astrid protested. “Tuff, you kept yourself alive and you left me signs. Not once did you give up, until I found you and we escaped together.” Astrid praised, stroking his cheek. “I’m seriously impressed. What you did was clever and brave - there’s nothing pathetic about you.”

Tuff’s hand poised over a new piece of paper, badly shaking as he wrote silently. 

_ But I wasn’t always brave. Whenever they attacked me, I froze up. I couldn’t fight them off. Instead I begged them with everything I had. I obeyed them. That’s not brave at all. _

Astrid swallowed as she read it. Her tongue felt like clay in her mouth.She reached out, not stopping Tuff from writing anymore, but putting her hands on his bare arms, her thumbs gently stroking his skin as he crouched forward to write.

_ I kept trying to escape so that was something, but I was hurt and tired and I couldn’t ever get far. They didn’t let me walk unless I was on a leash or tied behind the cart. If I ran or even if they thought I was trying to, they beat me. The foreman said it was all training. I demanded to know what for and he - _

Tuff stopped writing, and gripped his arms, shivering violently. His eyes went blank and Astrid knew his mind had drifted very far away.

The foreman. Astrid remembered him. He had been the one that touched Tuff’s face and called him a ‘good boy’. He had also threatened to let the men use him. 

“What did he do?” she asked softly. 

Tuff came back to himself abruptly,  hitching. He covered his face, not answering, and curled forward into a tight ball. Astrid wrapped her arms around him and gathered him close, resting her chin on the top of his head. He didn’t have to tell her. She could guess.

Her heart burned with rage. She had thought Merch was the worst of the lot. She had thought she’d gotten him out of there before he’d ever had to be touched or violated in that way. Apparently she was mistaken. 

“If you want us to hunt those maggots down and roast them alive, I’m in,” she growled.

Tuff shook his head. He didn’t leave her arms, but dragged the paper over.

_ I’m not worth it. Please don’t . _

“You are worth it, Tuff,” she said fiercely. 

Tuff looked up at her, wide-eyed . _Then I will be from now on. I promise, _ he wrote feverishly_. I’ll work hard, I’ll be a very different rider. No more pranks or slacking off, ever again and I swear, I’ll train every day._

Astrid blinked. “Tuff ... that’s not ... you’re our friend, and we love you the way you are? You don’t have to change anything.”

He looked at her solemnly. 

_ But I already have changed. I had to. _

Well, she couldn’t argue with that. Tuff was right - his misadventure had resulted in a bigger change than the way he communicated. The hunters had broken him into pieces and Tuffnut had been forced to put himself together again and again, no matter how badly it hurt.

It wasn’t fair that he’d had to, but Astrid couldn’t help the surge of admiration she felt for him. He could have just given up and lost all hope, but he had kept fighting, clawing his way through hellish night after night. He had relied on his own cleverness and restraint, knowing when to be obedient and when to attempt escape, and that it was just as honorable as fighting his way to freedom would have been.

“Tuff, you are one of the bravest, sneakiest, and smartest Vikings I know. You fight more like Loki than Thor. Those hunters may have kept you on a lead and tied you up, but you still slipped them, multiple times. You left signs, marks, pieces of your clothing- even after they buried them. They tried to make me think you were dead ... that must have been hard to watch, them making your cairn.”

Tuff shuddered violently and gave a small nod. Astrid cupped his cheek and pressed her forehead to his. 

“You dropped your tooth pendant for us. Stormfly didn’t find it until after I tore the rocks down and found your things. That’s how we picked up your trail again. Because of you, Tuff. You did not, would not give up. Through your actions, you rescued yourself every bit as much as we did.” 

Tuff blinked at her for a long moment and she could swear she saw his ears turning red. He shrugged noncommittally but leaned slightly toward her as he wrote.

_ I don’t know how to feel about anything. It was my fault for getting captured in the first place, so I can’t be mad at Hiccup. I don’t want to be mad at him. Ruff’s mad enough for both of us. Hiccup seems to want to be mad at me, though? Is it because you were in danger? _

“No,” Astrid said, firmly. “You haven’t done anything wrong. Hiccup isn’t mad at you, he’s horrified at his own mistake and he doesn’t know how to deal with personal failure. It’s apparently easier to blame you than to square up and tell you he’s sorry.”

Tuff blinked and then seemed to relax. A moment later his eyes filled up and he started wiping at them, sagging in relief.

“Hiccup was thinking earlier that you’d want to go home to Berk. To just ... retire and be safe. I don’t think he understands why you haven’t demanded it,” she blurted. Tuff looked shocked and quickly shook his head. 

_Never. I’m not quitting. I know what kind of men Viggo has been hiring now, and no way am I leaving you guys to deal all that alone_,  he wrote. 

Astrid felt something warm coil through her, wrapping around her heart. She recalled a different scenario of a past battle, of Tuff telling her to take Stormfly and go, and he would hold off the hunters so she could make it.

Of course, Hiccup hadn’t been there. He hadn’t seen half of Tuff’s bravery that night.

Her heart fluttered and she grinned at him, a little goofily. “I knew you were staying. I told Hiccup there was no way you’d want to just go home. That’s not you at all.”

Tuff grinned back, looking touched.  _ You really think I’m that brave?  _ he wrote, almost bashfully.

Astrid beamed at him. “Very much brave.”

He flushed with happiness and Thor, did it feel good to know he could smile like that again. He pulled her into a hug, nestling happily in her arms as she wrapped them around his body. 

She watched him as he drifted off to sleep, laying her back against his headboard. It wasn’t the most comfortable of positions, but no worse than roughing it while tracking Tuff down had been. 

Besides, she could watch him sleep this way for a little while and maybe keep the nightmares at bay. They had both been stealing hours of sleep the past couple days, but there had been precious little rest for either of them. Maybe tonight they could get a full night’s sleep in. 

Astrid certainly hoped so. She stroked Tuff’s hair and rested her chin on top of his head, not quite aware of drifting off. 

———-

There was a lot to do, come morning. And of course \- of _course _ Hiccup had flown to Berk on a ‘supply run’ for nails and paint and extra tools. His letter was short and factual and its briskness let Astrid know that he was hurt and guilty and needed some space. 

She wondered if that was secret code for “fly after me and tell me it’s not my fault”. Astrid scoffed and used the note as tinder for the kitchen fire. 

After breakfast, she rallied the others and assigned them certain areas. Dagur and Snotlout would cut down some trees for lumber. Fishlegs was on meal duty, Heather went on patrol of the island, and Ruff flew off to the harbor to pull in the fishnets for their dragons’ breakfast.

That left her and Tuff to do an inspection of the other huts and surrounding structures, to see what supplies they needed to fix everything. Hiccup was likely to bring either too much or not enough, or maybe nothing at all because he’d find some kind of wild dragon to rescue. Honest,y he could have just as easily stayed and gone on patrol if he’d wanted to mope all day and Heather could have given her a hand with the huts so Tuff could rest. 

He wouldn’t have had it, though. Tuff was moving about after breakfast, albeit just a little unsteadily. He wrote that Ruff had given him sage fruit that morning to help kill the pain and gave Astrid a thumbs up. 

She grinned back fondly, making a mental note to keep him off ladders - not that it made any difference. The pain lifting wonders of sagefruit had seemingly transformed Tuffnut into a human-sized Ratatosk.

He could climb through rafters and hang upside down to nail plates over the splintered hard to reach beams. He walked across sloping roofs as easily as though they were fields of grass. Tuff did not fall as he worked alongside her and after watching him carefully at first, Astrid relaxed enough to pay full attention to what her hands were doing.

The sun was pleasantly warm on them as they replaced the scorched shingles on the Clubhouse. It was quiet without Tuff’s constant chatter and stories, and she was not one for talking as she worked. As often as she had complained about it before, she found she missed the banter. It had been distracting sometimes, but it made the work more bearable.

It was small wonder then, that Tuff found something equally pleasant to fill the silence. 

At first, she thought there was a bird singing in the tree nearby, but if that was a robin, why was its mating call a Snoggletog carol?

She looked up from hammering, nails in her mouth, to catch Tuffnut cheerfully whistling the song about Thor’s glow-antlered goat that had flown all of the Allfather’s presents to safety through a thick fog. 

It was a relatively new carol - that first year after the dragon truce had been weird, with everyone having to try new ways to celebrate. The song was ridiculous, but nobody could exactly sing the old carols anymore - certainly not the ones that involved ‘dashing through the Snow-Wraiths on a weapon studded sleigh’. 

Astrid couldn’t talk to him with nails in her mouth but he glanced at her and stopped, looking worried that he was bothering her.

She spat the nails out into her free hand. “It’s okay - I just - I didn’t know you could whistle.”

Tuff grinned and shrugged happily. He whistled an affirmative noise ( now he sounded like a robin!) and it made her laugh. 

“Know anymore songs?” 

He nodded and whistled the tune to a familiar song. Astrid grinned even wider. He knew she loved battle songs - they were good to work to. She lifted her hammer and as they worked and he whistled the tune, sometimes she chimed in with the lyrics. 

Astrid knew she had a fairly nice voice, though it wasn’t high and pretty like Heather’s. It was a soldier’s voice, strong and alto, and she remembered all the lyrics and notes. Tuffnut’s whistling only complimented her singing, and she enjoyed accompanying him. Astrid kept a grin on her face all the way to their midday break. 

They had accomplished a lot together that morning, fixing all the roofs and reinforcing holes in the floor of most of the huts. There was a lot of other work but it was more cosmetic than structural. As of now the huts were fortified to withstand another attack. 

Fishlegs had made bread and potato soup. Tuff still only ate a fraction of what he could normally put away and when Astrid looked at him in concern, he touched his throat and winced illustratively. Talking last night had probably hurt too much - maybe Dagur could make him more of that medicine. He had brought the herbs he needed, courtesy of Mala. 

“Sure, I can make him another dose,” he said, almost before she’d finished asking, and to his credit, Dagur didn’t tease her about last night. Possibly (hopefully) nobody had remembered. “How’s Boynut holding up?”

“... I still want to bathe a lot of hunters in their own blood?”

Dagur nodded. “Mmhmm, as slowly as possible?”

“Oh yeah,” Astrid said, crossing her arms. 

“You’re inviting me, I hope? Because I have some ideas for how to do that. Many ideas, in fact.”

“I don’t think there’s going to be anything to invite you to. Tuff doesn’t think he’s worth it.” Astrid gave an almost dreamy smile, not altogether aware of her expression. “But he says he’s still going to be a rider, to protect all of  us .”

Dagur blinked slowly at her and then grinned. “So I take it the engagement with my brother is off,” he said, about as bluntly as he could manage to say anything.

Astrid reeled in shock and stared at him. “Hiccup hasn’t ever proposed to me.”

The Berserker looked equally shocked. “What?! He hasn’t?” One look at her frowning expression and Dagur groaned, palming his face. “You’re seriously telling me that he has never actually approached you on this subject? It hasn’t come up on any single one of your dates?”

Astrid’s brow wrinkled in honest confusion. “Dates?” 

Dagur looked for a moment like he was about to scream and pull all of his hair out. After a couple very deep calming breaths, he straightened back up and offered her a smile. “You know what, never mind all that. You seem way happier with Boynut anyway.”

Astrid turned pink, sputtering. “Wha- no, we’re not - I mean, he’s gone through so much, I couldn’t possibly even think about it - that would be totally taking advantage-“

“Astrid,” Dagur interrupted, his voice was low and serious. “Caring for someone is _never_ taking advantage of them.”

“But I’m the one who rescued him, so he’s bound to have feelings - confused feelings - “ Astrid tried to explain. 

“No, _normal_ feelings , not ‘confused’ feelings. For all you know, he had feelings for you before he was even captured.“

Astrid almost retorted that Tuff had never shown any such interest, certainly not in his words. His words had been nonsensical, and teasing - of picnic baskets and invitations to join him wrestling boars in the pit, boasts that managing to catch her off guard was a rare achievement, tips on where to find pretty waterfalls and glow worm caves, soft beaches, ripe blackberry bushes ... 

She went still, realizing. Her heart started racing a bit. 

Tuff hadn’t been showing an interest in getting her for himself. He had been showing an interest in  _her_ . 

It was as different as night and day from how others had approached her. 

Snotlout thought the best gift he could give a woman was himself. Dogsbreath had tried to buy her love with flowers that smelled nice but made her break out into hives. Hiccup had apparently just ... assumed they were going to get together and marry, with no effort on his part at all. 

While all this time, Tuff had been watching, saying nothing about what  he wanted, respecting Astrid’s apparent choice to just go along with it.

Fuck.

“... so _you_ look like you’re having an intense mental journey,” Dagur remarked.

Astrid shot him an irritated look and he grinned, sheepishly. 

“Sorry. Yep, I’ll go make that broth now.”

———

Astrid had been right - Tuff drank the broth eagerly, and afterwards was able to eat some more food, though he had to tear and chew the bread into smaller pieces first. 

After lunch, everyone took a rest and Snotlout relieved Heather’s position of scouting the island. 

Tuff was moving like the sage fruit had long worn off, but he picked up a hammer and tried to go back to work. Astrid took his arm, shaking her head fondly. “We’re all going to relax for a while Tuff. That means you too. Come on.”

She led him over to Stormfly and he willingly put down the hammer, looking at her in happy surprise. 

_Are we going on a flight? _ Tuff wrote. 

“I figured that after all our hard work we could use a soak at those hot springs you told me about. Is that okay?”

Tuff stared at her, turning slightly red, but nodded. Astrid felt a thrill that she hadn’t been wrong, but said nothing. She helped him up on Stormfly and got on behind.

The hot springs were in a cave of reddish rock and though the pools didn’t glow with bioluminescence like the last ones had, the water was every bit as nice. 

Both of them undressed down to their small clothes and Astrid sighed blissfully as she settled into the sloping groove of her favorite pool. It was a fairly large pool, able to fit at least five riders comfortably, but Tuff took up a place by her side, less than a foot away from her. 

She could see the bruises and welts, still vivid against his skin but no longer looking infected. His eyes were closed and his breathing deep and slow. 

Astrid sought his hand under the water and held it. Tuff blinked and looked at her, eyes wide, but held hers back like he was afraid she would let go. 

She knew if he could talk, he’d probably be telling some trivia - likely how holding hands with a friend was good for the circulatory system. Now she knew  why and it was endearing. 

After a moment, she pulled his hand, moving him closer to her in the water until his hip was pressed against hers. She cupped the back of his neck and pulled his head down for a kiss.

Tuff froze up but did not pull back. Just as Astrid worried that maybe she’d been wrong and was upsetting him, his lips moved and captured hers firmly, arms going around her and pulling her closer to him. Astrid felt the breath leave her lungs from the suddenness of his embrace and she could feel him trembling under her fingers.

She stroked his skin, soothing and calming him until his shaking subsided and his kisses became less frenzied. Tuff had been careful not to hurt her but his fingers traced over her lips worriedly when they at last parted to catch their breaths. 

Astrid kissed them then pulled his hand down and kissed his throat, her mouth moving across the scabs and cuts and weals, kissing past them like they weren’t there. Tuff let out a shaky sigh as she straddled his waist, leaving trails of kisses all over him and moving his braids out of the way as she chased welts and light freckles alike across his collar and shoulder.

Tuff managed to grate out her name, making her look up at him. His grey eyes were wide, shedding tears, so she kissed those away too. 

“I’m here,” she promised, soothing him. “For as long as you want me to be, I’ll be right beside you from now on. Everything is going to be okay.”

He wrapped his arms around her, hitching and mouthing Hiccup’s name, clearly feeling guilty for apparently breaking them up. Astrid gave a shrug.

“We aren’t engaged. Or even courting, really. He’s never really asked.”

Tuff blinked and then opened his mouth to shout about the absurdity of that, but winced after the first indignant noise. 

“Yeah, I know,” Astrid smiled, tucking a smaller braid behind his ear. “I don’t really want to think about him right now.”

He nodded, holding her a bit closer. Astrid draped herself against him, and felt him nuzzling against her throat, leaving soft kisses of his own wherever he could reach.

The water cradled them both together in its comforting heat and she closed her eyes in bliss, letting Tuff kiss and stroke patterns across her skin. He would occasionally scoop up water in his hands, trickling it pleasantly over her shoulders and back. 

Eventually, the sky began to threaten a sunset and Stormfly had gotten up to pace and chatter, wanting to go back for her dinner. Astrid sighed and sat up, kissing Tuff’s lips and standing up. She reached her dripping hands down to him and he took the offer, letting her pull him up.

She steadied him by the hips when he swayed and helped him step out of the pool, not letting him fall. They dried off with the woolen towels she’d packed in Stormfly’s bags, and they took turns drying each other’s hair. 

As soon as they were dressed, Tuff took his slate out from the bag. He held it for a moment like he wanted to shatter it, but instead wrote something shakily.

_I’ve always wanted to tell you how I felt. I never could find the words, even when I had them. I swear, if I ever get my voice back, the first thing I’m saying is how much you mean to me._

Her eyes teared up when she read it and she wrapped her arms around him, laying her chin on his shoulder. 

“You didn’t have to tell me, Tuff. You showed me how you felt. Over and over again - without a word or a sound - and I never realized. Whether you get your voice back or not, I’ll know. I will always know.”

Astrid felt him hitch against her and he hugged her back tightly, hiding his face in her hair. 

She understood. She was overwhelmed he’d chosen her too. If she was honest with herself, there had been many a time she’d considered Tuff. She just hadn’t thought (known for a fact) that he would reciprocate any approach she made. So she had stayed where it was safe - with Hiccup- who had never outright rejected her, but absolutely took her for granted.

It rankled her, that she had ever been so passive.

“Come on, babe,” Astrid murmured, when he’d quieted and when her own eyes were dry and she could trust herself to speak evenly. “Let’s get some food. I need to see you eat so you heal up, okay?”

She stroked his cheek and he nuzzled it, kissing her palm. It made her heart flutter. 

Stormfly flew them back to the Clubhouse and called a greeting to the other dragons out on the landing deck. Toothless warbled back a greeting of his own and they dismounted to let Stormfly properly welcome him back.

Astrid watched them, realizing this meant that Hiccup was back and more than likely just inside.

She looked at Tuff, wondering but willing to understand if he wanted to keep this secret for a while.

He reached for her hand in response, grinning when she clasped it tightly.

Brave together, they went  inside.


End file.
